Cataclysm: Beginning of the Fall
by ValkyrieLead
Summary: There is a shadow hanging over Kalamanda in the heart of Runeterra. Drawn deeper into a web of deciet and espionage, Prince Jarvan IV and his consort, Shyvana, must willingly step into the trap laid out for him by the enigmatic Black Rose led by Leblanc and the devious Jericho Swain if they hope to avert all out war. - Sequel to Cataclysm: Kalamanda Rising
1. Preface

"People don't take trips. . .trips take people."

-John Steinbeck

Once again, I stand on the verge of setting off on another grand adventure in the world of Runeterra, exploring the Adventures and relationship of two of my very favorite champions, Prince Jarvan Lightshield IV and his subordinate and companion, the dragoness Shyvana. I do know where I want this story to end, but I do not know how I will get there. There will be pain and hardship, but also adventure, excitement and the tenderness and love of two who share a bond forged in the fires of the flames of Dragons and the Cataclysms that befall their world.

For those of you who have followed me from the beginning of this story nearly three and a half years ago, I just want to thank you for supporting me for so long. I hope this story has surpassed your wildest dreams so far, and I hope I continue to make you cry, laugh, smile, and yearn for more, because without your support and your kind words of praise and encouragement, this story would have died or ended long ago.

For those of you who are just joining us or just entering into the vicious conflict, I hope you've enjoyed the ride so far... It is _far_ from over yet.

Updates on this story might be infrequent and scattered... my life has grown busy, but I love these characters, I love this story and I love the fans who've come to support me.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

-Valkyrie Lead


	2. Prologue: Intentions

"…Let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance."

-Franklin Delano Roosevelt

* * *

 _Four days ago…_

The wind swept through the Demacian cityscape, slithering in between the heavy marble buildings, invading every crevice with uninhibited abandon. More snow had fallen the night before, and banks had formed along every building and every street. The wind was frigid and burned the cheeks of everyone who stepped out of their homes despite the sharp, almost violent waves of sunshine that fell upon Runeterra. Atop the spires of the great walls of the city proper, the guards roamed among the gold sheathed spire and the snapping and cracking banners, watching as wagons and travellers moved up and down the east road. Some spoke softly among themselves as they performed their assigned duties diligently, while others spoke with louder, more jealous tones of those who got to observe the fight at the palace.

"She may be green, but she fights like no other." One guard's voice cut through the others, carried away like sheer whispers on the wind. "Her power is inhuman."

"I mean… she is a dragon." Another soldier laughed as he raised his crossbow and let it rest upon his shoulder.

"Half-dragon." The first soldier corrected, nodding to himself. "That why she looks human... mostly. I've seen how she gets when she's angry. It's not something I'd like to see a second time because I don't think I would live to see it a third time."

"Still…" The second said, sighing softly as he grinned and leaned against the parapet, glancing down towards palace beyond the city. "I'm jealous of the Prince. A hot piece of…"

"Careful what you say." A guard stopped his roving patrol and leaned his lance against one of the rises of the parapet before he pulled his helmet free and ran a hand through his sweat soaked hair. He shook out a ponytail before setting the helmet down at one foot to adjust the armor plating upon his shin. "She may be half dragon, half human, but she is most definitly part dog. My brother has seen how she has amazing hearing and smell. Who's to say that she's not already on her way to take you out?"

"Bah." The first said, waving him off. "Just you wait. You remember seeing the prince leaving earlier? Mark my words, she won't be long behind."

"...Surely you don't think that the Seneschal is going to lose so easily?" The sergeant paused next to his subordinates, the man keeping his lance posted at his side as he turned and glanced at the chatting guards. "Master Xin Zhao held the record for the Noxian's own _Fleshing_ for several decades. They may call the prince ' _The Last Dragonslayer_ ', but by the end of the day they may have to revoke that title…"

"You didn't get to see Shyvana take down Captain Crownguard the way I did, Sarge." The first guardsman laughed softly as he leaned heavily on his weapon, looking out over the snow covered landscape. The trees had been cleared out several hundred yards, giving the crossbowmen, cannons, and mages a clear line of sight should the walls of the city ever come under attack. However, far below, thousands of people swarmed about in a sea of tents that stretched out from the base of the walls. Refugees lined the entrance of the city, some demanding work, others demanding better living conditions, but there was only so much that could be offered. Thousands of jobs and thousands of emergency homes within the city had already been filled, but with every passing day, hundreds more refugees arrived at the city gates.

"You were on duty then?" The sergeant asked, a smile playing over his face.

The guardsman nodded. "It was a shitshow, sir, but _damn_ that dragon girl is terrifying." He glanced at the second guardsman as a grin grew on his face. "Total hotty, too."

The sergeant chuckled for a moment before sighing softly and frowning to himself, leaning to the side, shifting all the weight to one of his legs. "That _is_ the prince's girlfriend you're speaking of, guardsman. Best not let him hear you saying that.

"I was talking about the flames, sarge." The guardsman laughed. "Where's your mind at right now sir?"

"Not here." The sergeant chortled. "Back home with my wife. Back to your duties men. Stay vigilant, friends."

"Aye, sarge." The first guardsman nodded as he turned back to his post. "I'll do tha-..."

The sergeant of the guard paused and frowned, hesitating. The guard's voice had cut out mid sentence for some reason. He started to turn back towards the guard at the parapet, but a flash of brilliant red froze the man in his tracks. He felt his throat sease up as the flash of silver came deathly quick, aimed for his throat. "Alar-...!"

His voice died in his throat as arterial spray showered the tan stone.

The sergeant fell down next to his subordinate, blood pouring from his throat as he watched the other guards lay dead and dying. The guardsman's throat had been slashed and his eyes were now cold and distance, staring off as if a goddess was descending down to take him to heaven. The sergeant looked up as a hooded man leaned over his face, a cold smile upon his face as darkness began to creep along the edges of his vision. Standing next to him, a redhaired woman looked down at him with disinterest as she leaned down as wiped the blood from her knife onto his tunic.

"Only fools hesitate." The woman hissed softly as she polished her knife to a brilliant sheen with the hem of her cloak. "Talon, report."

"We've cleared the guards and put our own men into position to blow the gate when we need." The cloaked man growled with a deep bass timbre. "I know Swain said that the gate would blow when we moved the hextech responder he had given us through, but Gerard say that the receiver isn't responding to any sort of signal. The Demacians must have cleared out his little trick."

"Has the security been heightened?" The redhead hissed angrily, frowning as she looked down along the wall. "I thought the plan was foolproof?"

"Looks like Swain lied. " Talon growled as he rolled his eyes. "Again. Luckily, I still have a few friends left among the street urchins here. Apparently the word on the street is that a Piltovan scientist crossed through the gate with some sort of self propelled cart of his own creation. The cart exploded not long after passing through the gate, and a couple of Demacian soldiers were hurt, though no one was hurt. Guess who was responsible?"

The redhead sighed heavily. "Shyvana and Jarvan?"

"Yep." Talon grumbled as he shook his head, though the grumble turned into sharp snarl towards the end. "They just don't know how to keep clean, do they?"

"Not at all." The redhead sighed again. "Swain will be pissed, of course. That explains why we got tagged with this duty."

"Of course he left us with the short stick." Talon snarled, shaking his head. "Fucking typical bureaucratic bullshit. So what do we want to do? Our men are in position already to extract whatever the fuck High Command deemed so important that we insert under Black Ops conditions."

"We'll make it work. " The redhead sighed softly. " I want you to make sure we have enough explosives to blow through the east gate for our escape. I don't think we're going be able to move the cargo from the mausoleum without taking them directly through the gate. So get it sorted and then proceed with your distraction as planned."

Talon grumbled as he ran a hand over his mouth and frowned. "About that. You know, I've been thinking. I know this monster is supposedly famous... he killed Jarvan's grandfather or something, right? Legend says he is a monster of a man, almost half again as tall as I am. How exactly are we going to get his remains out of here? I know we have a decent team here, Kat, but how exactly do you plan on..."

"Take it easy, Talon" Katarina sighed. "That part of the plan, Swain assured me that when he assigned me this mission, would be taken care of. Trusted agents he said."

"Whatever." Talon grumbled as he shook his head. He stepped towards the notched walls that looked out over the city.

"I don't like this anymore than you do, Talon." Katarina said softly, shaking her head. "With all the questions still remaining around my father, Jarvan being injured, and the mobilization going on I hate to say it but this plan couldn't have been implemented at a worse time. "

"That's where I come in, right?" Talon said as he perched upon the wall. "Get in, make a show of trying to attack the king, get right back out and make a run north towards the ford at Golden Crossing, which they will conveniently follow me to, because I will have accidentally dropped a copy of my orders that states I escape through the Freljord. They follow me north, and when I empty the city of guards, you waltz on out without a problem. "

"Right." Katarina said, looking up at the sky. She frowned; it was impossible to tell the time of day in the overcast sky. "You up for it?"

"I wouldn't be here If I weren't, now would I?" Talon rumbled, a smirk playing over his face.

"There's a one more thing." Katarina said softly, a frown playing over her face. "Make sure you don't hurt anyone if you can avoid it. I don't want to escalate the issues in Kalamanda by attacking the wrong person."

"Fearing for the prince's safety?" Talon smirked.

"Not so much." Katarina grimace, but a thin smirk played over her face, "Just the flames and temper that usually follows. Now go. We both have a job to complete."

Talon nodded his head and disappeared over the edge of the wall, dropping out of sight.

* * *

 _One day ago..._

"And you're sure that they can complete the mission?" The voice was sultry sweet, but there was a venom to the tone as if a viper was slithering just inside. "It's been three days already, and still nothing. The Demacians even captured our little security measure thanks to that little bitch that was working with the prince…"

"The dragon girl?" The voice was cold and scratchy as the man coughed sharply once before humming a little reassurance to himself.

The woman shook her head. "No, no, the other one. The one with the chicken?"

"Ah yes, the ranger with the eagle…" The man drummed his fingers along the desk several times before exhaling slowly. "A shame really, but they won't get anything from my subordinate." There was a tone of satisfaction in his voice when he spoke. "I made sure of that personally, you have nothing to worry about. But now to more pertinent issues, our little operation."

"Indeed." The woman mused softly, stroking her chin. "I ensured the girl wouldn't talk a while ago. But her little brother is another matter. He's a street urchin with connections to the black market and the underworld that even I can't track, and with the liberal use of their given freedom as of late it has left them able to elude even my eyes."

"Katarina and Talon will complete their mission, Evaine." There was moment of silence from the gravely voice before it croaked a shark chuckle. "I've made sure they gain or lose nothing by completing this mission." He watched her expression turn sour for a moment before letting a croak of a chuckle escape his lips. "But I suppose you're mad because you go by Emilia now, yes?"

"Indeed." Emilia mused softly, the mocking interest she injected into her voice couldn't hide the malice cloaked behind a curtain of painfully weak sincerity.

"And what of your own compatriots?" The man scanned the room as if he expected the mentioned missing visitors to suddenly appear from his simple beck and call.

"They shall be here… in time." The cloaked woman said softly, glancing over her shoulder. A frown materialized on her face briefly as she turned back to the balding man. He had steepled his fingers before him as he leaned forward, drawing his mouth up behind his hands.

He sighed softly. "Very well." He looked up and watched as his guest's head twisted about.

"Two approach. Shall I deal with them?" Emilia spun, starting towards one of the long shadows cast by the weakly flickering fire, but the eerie caw cut through the air as the spindly bird blinked its six eyes, only one closing at a time, sweeping around its face in a wave.

"Beatrice, silence." The man growled softly, though he stroked a hand along the oily raven's feathers. "Stay a while, Emilia, and stay your blade and sorcery." The invitation was not intended as such, rather the tone was that of a command. The woman, a dark cloak wrapped around her shoulders and a hood pulled low over her brow, frowned but nodded once. Though she did not disappear, she slunk deeper to the shadows, crossing her arms across her chest beneath the cloak.

A sharp knock sounded against something wooden and solid like a post, originating somewhere just beyond the direction of the door.

"Enter." The balding man ordered officiously. Though there was only cloth, when the fabric of the tent was drawn back it revealed a large wooden flag post that stood sentinel to the door, a guard flanking it on either side. Two men swept into the room, their large statures silhouetted by flickering flames from beyond the doorway. The tent darkened for a few moments before the door fell shut behind the two newcomers, drowning them in the shadows that engulfed the room.

The first was massively broad across the chest, a few inches in his favor over his compatriot as he looked around, glancing over the head of the second man who had followed him through the door. A single grey stripe colored his dark hair, swept back over his head as he approached and saluted proudly, planting a terrifyingly large headsman's axe before him as he fell in at attention, holding the salute. His armor was heavy, a dark grey dressed in dark red swaths of heavily reinforced canvas. The cloak was gathered around his shoulders and spilled backwards into a cape that fell to tattered ruins at his ankles, worn from months of marching, training, and combat. He stood at attention until it was returned by the balding officer, only then lowering his guard to stand at parade rest, waiting patiently.

The second did not have the larger one's manners, though what he lacked in stature he made up in charisma. He wore a massive smile half hidden behind his beard, the long tails falling from either side of his mustache and the tip of his chin. His hair was turned up like a cockatoo, and his grin was equally flashy. He grunted as his eyes settled on the vaguely feminine shape shrouded by shadow and cloak. He started to turn towards her, grunting softly in interest as he made a show of flexing in an odd pose that wasn't even close to natural for what he was trying to do.

"Draven." The broader soldier barked, pulling the shorter one's attention away from the woman and back to the matter at hand. "General Darius, reporting General Swain. I've brought my brother, as per your request." There was the subtle hints of resentment and confusion in his voice at the mention of his brother. A snicker escaped the younger man's throat and the older man frowned and turned slightly towards him. "If there ever was a time to shut your mouth, now would be that time."

"Draven heard ya." Cockatoo hair announced with a grin. "Draven don't care."

"You're both here, that's what matter right now." Swain mused softly, reading the emotion on his subordinates face as he pressed his hands firmly to the desk. "Gentlemen, I've called you here to Kalamanda because I need your assistance."

"You know, I usually get paid for gigs like this." Draven muttered. The hooded woman turned her head slightly and the gladiator took this as a sign to start flexing again. "What's there for me here?" He glanced over his shoulder. "No women, no taverns, nothing as far as the eye can see. You'd better hope that my time isn't wasted here."

"Your services will be more than well compensated." Swain said, nodding his head slowly.

"You should hope so, Swain." Draven growled, shaking his head. "Darius, what exactly did you drag me into?"

"Stay your frustrations, gladiator." Swain said, his smile turning cruel and twisted. "I think you have a personal interest here as well. One woman in particular that may interest you..."

"Oh?" Draven raised an eyebrow in curiosity, his grin turning vicious. "Something _personal_ you say? Before, you had my curiosity, but now you've caught my attention." He paused and glanced at his brother before turning back to the bald general, nodding his head. "Continue."

"I thank you for your _permission_." There was sarcasm in the Noxian General's voice but it didn't stop him from pushing onwards. "You remember the draconian whelp who shamed you on the outskirts? She now serves under the Demacian Prince, and I have a task for you."

"The red haired, fire breathing demoness?" Draven narrowed his eyes though a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Please tell me I get to ruin her..."

"Capture her, drag her out, torture her, do what you wish to her, I do not care." Swain growled softly. "Take her, seduce her, break her, kill her, whatever you must. Do you accept this task?"

Draven let his head hang back and let out a deep chuckled. "I should have come sooner! You're letting me do whatever I want to pay that little bitch back? Oh yes, YES, **YES!** I am more than willing to take care of this, just let me at her!"

"There is only one stipulation." Swain growled menacing, frowning. "You must wait till I give the order for your attack to come. Too soon and all of my plans fall apart, too late and everything unravels as well. Do you understand?"

"Oooooh…" Draven growled, licking his lips as he rubbed his hands together. "I've been looking forward to this for so long." The gentle clink of metal rings on a staff resounded as the cloaked woman stepped from the shadows. She raised her staff, just barely touching the man's chin with the lengthy metal rod.

"You had best listen to his words, mercenary." She hissed softly. "There is no room for mistakes in these endeavors, and I do not tolerate the failure of men with loose lips, loose morals, and lacking convictions." Her voice was razor sharp, and the utter silence in the room was nearly deafening.

"Mercenary?" Draven snarled, spinning about, a devious frown upon his face. "What did you say to me? I'll have you know I was the prize fighter in the Pit, and I've been involved in numerous epic bouts, and I have over three hundred confirmed kills. I was trained in gladiatorial warfare and I am the top executioner in the entire Noxian armed forces. You're nothing but a… woah." Emilia stepped from the darkness and into the smoky light, her cloak hanging open to reveal her ample curves, bound by tight fitting garb. Darius took one glance and blushed lightly before turning to Draven. He started to open his mouth but froze. He shook his head after seeing the look on Draven's face.

"Brother…" There was anger and the tired grumble of a man who knew what was to come. Darius lifted his axe as if to block the shorter ones movement, but he simply laughed, and pushed it aside as he grabbed a candle and swept into the shadows. Emilia sighed softly and posted her hands upon her hips, offering him a cold but devious smile. Draven's smile grew as he waved the candle about like a scepter, sweeping in forward and bowing in a flashy manner.

"Hello there…" Draven purred, his eyes dancing down her body. His smile grew wide and sloven as he stood up and swept a hand over his hair. "And just who are you that utters such daunting words from such luscious lips?"

"Be careful what you ask for, brother." Darius muttered, wearing a cold smirk. "Your silver tongue may yet lead to your spilled blood staining your pretty face."

"You think me pretty?" Draven laughed. "You flatter me brother, but I am nothing in the company of one such as this…" He slid forward and slid an arm around the cloaked figure, his grin lascivious. "Perhaps we should retire early, my dear. I know a nice little place we can go."

"Why wait?" Emilia hissed softly, turning towards the man, her hand snaking down below his belt.

"Oh!" Draven jumped slightly, but did not retreat. "Fiesty! I like iiihiuhmit…" His voice wavered slightly as he shrunk back slightly. "Ow, ow, ow!" He snarled, swiping his hand towards the woman, but she stepped from behind him as his hand merely passed through the illusion. "WHAT!?"

"I do enjoy the subtleties…" She murmured as she raised her staff. Draven snarled as he started to turn, but the staff was already sweeping down, and it caught him on the back of the neck, dropping him to the ground. She exhaled sharply, her voice dripping with contempt. "But sometimes, it is best to deal with cancer swiftly before it festers. Jericho, their actions do not instill confidence…"

"They're here for a reason, Emilia." Swain said softly, shaking his head. "General, perhaps you'd best take your brother and retire for now?"

"Of course, sir." Darius rumbled, sweeping down and scooping up his brother. He tossed the man over his shoulder as if it were nothing and turned towards the door. He paused, glancing down at the woman. "My apologies. He often thinks with the wrong head."

Emilia snorted as the broad Noxian general retreated from the tent. "I find the younger one deplorable. Is he really necessary?"

"He is unpredictable, but that is why I brought him here." Swain sighed softly. "His ability to cause chaos and mayhem will serve him well when it comes time."

"Very well." Emilia sighed softly. Her head came up again, though this time she wore a cold smile. "Greetings, followers. Now that we are assembled… Welcome, members of the Black Rose."

Two dark figures rose up from the shadows. One had silver hair that gleamed against his crimson cloak, the other had demonically white skin and gleaming red eyes atop a curving, slender form. The later hissed softly as two spindly legs rose up from the shadows and arched forward over her shoulders. She held up a hand and let the two long legs slowly, meticulously run over her fingers before she finally deemed the others worthy of her attention. The man laid a hand over his chest and bowed his head shallowly. "Lady Leblanc, how may I be of service?"

"What news do you bring from Noxus and Darkbourne keep?"

"Darkwill's thralls are searching for something. Snatching up articles of the arcane: rituals of blood and bone, relics of the Shadow Isles, and things darker still." The man grinned softly, his voice quivering ever so slightly at the mention of blood.

"He desires things that we can offer." The multi-legged woman hissed softly as she plucked a spider from her shoulder and examined it with interest. "An interesting opportunity…"

Leblanc nodded her head. "I will bend his ear. If he is receptive, ensure we can provide what we promise."

The woman nodded as she toyed with the spider. "My followers will see it done. I only need give the word and the last of the relics will be ours."

"Good." Leblanc mused. "Will the corpse suffice for our purposes?"

"I fear that the first bout of necromancy burned away much of his soul and left us with hardly a workable husk." The man dressed in red frowned slightly, his voice turning slightly darker in tone and inflection. "I will require more _supplies_ if we plan to finish this on time. If we do not speed up the time table…"

"I will get you your supplies." Swain nodded. "Do not worry, hemomancer."

"Very well." The man in red nodded and bowed his head, taking a step back. "We are well underway then. Soon, we will be impossible to stop."

Swain exhaled softly, catching the eye of the three guests in his tent. Emilia stepped forward, a frown on her face. "Do you doubt our abilities, general?"

Swain shook his head and raised a hand, using the other to pinch the bridge of his nose. "It is not your competency I worry about." He shook his head. "There are two who have proven to be a massive thorn in my side. They've ruined my plans once already, and they are already on their way here." Swain turned to teh room and noted the two other members of the Black Rose had disappeared, leaving only the seductress in his company

"You speak of those who slew the beast we were driving towards Noxus, yes?" Emilia asked softly, a frown forming on her face.

"Precisely." Swain grimaced.

"Worry not." Emilia said, her hand disappearing into her cloak for a brief moment. He lifted a small crystalline flask filled with crimson blood inside into the light. "It shall be dealt with in due time… Perhaps if you'd like to see them suffer you can turn your dogs loose on the woman early…"

"No, that would only incite conflict before I want it." Swain mused, shaking his head. "The thought is enticing, the wounds of betrayal… the thought of turning them against each other, it would cut the prince twice as deep as they cut the dragon girl, but her flames… they prove difficult to control. I have a less elegant plan to deal with them. It shall break them both and I look forward to the anguish it will bring them."

"Oh?" Leblanc said, a thin smile growing on her lips. "I look forward to it."

"In time." Swain mused softly as he stroked the raven slowly. "There is still much to prepare."

"Of course." Leblanc said softly, bowing her head. She slid backwards into the shadows and disappeared.

Swain closed his eyes and relished in the deviousness of his plan for a brief moment. The raven blinked, looking up at him. "I hope you are ready, prince… It won't be much longer till you have a far greater problem to contend with than simple lovers quarrels."


	3. Chapter 1: Soldiers

"So what do you know about our new commander?" The voice was soft enough to get lost among the sounds of clanking armor and marching boots, but the other voices hushed before answers could be offered as two horses came charging up along the side of the road.

"Company, halt!" The command came from the column of soldiers behind them, but the small group of soldiers sandwiched between the two platoons came to a halt as well, their wagon trundling to a stop behind them. The platoon in front of them rustled with confusion before it was called to attention by its commander.

"Sergeant Major!" Prince Jarvan's horse clattered to a halt on the edge of the road, the great black beast circling impatiently as the Demacian noble fought to control the animal.

Sergeant Major Argus Perrywinkle snapped to attention and saluted quickly. "Sir?" The prince planted his lance in the dirt, snapped off a quick salute and grabbed his lance again, ripping it from the ground, keeping one hand on the reigns of his horse as the beast bounced impatiently underneath him.

"Vorscham says there's an issue on the road ahead." The prince's voice was painfully serious and cold despite the warm sunshine that bore down upon the road that stretched to the southeast. "I'm taking Shyvana with me to check it out. I want you to marshal the rest of Victoria company into defensive positions; the scout seemed spooked."

"What's going on, sir?" The Sergeant Major growled as he pulled off his helmet, running a hand over his short-shorn, silver-templed hair. "Should I be expecting trouble?" He frowned slightly as he looked past the prince.

"I don't know, Argus." Jarvan responded with a grimace. "And don't worry. My bodyguard is just behind me."

"I wasn't going to ask." The sergeant major growled, but Jarvan saw a gleam of approval in his eye.

A set of horses came thundering forward, though their trots slowed quicker than the prince and the animals were far better behaved. Two women, one with icy white hair and one with ruby red locks, rode atop the horses. The red haired woman had ghostly pale skin, almost tinged blue in the light, and she wore armor heavier than her contemporaries. It was dark and thickly plated, dressed with slight gold accents and heavy scale mail lined her arms and legs where plate did not reach. She circled once, her magenta eyes dancing over the hundreds of different people briefly before she glanced at the prince. Her gaze lingered longer than that of a simple bodyguard, there was a definite connection there, but she returned to duties, her eyes scanning the area around the prince. She glanced down at the soldiers on foot, her eyes gleaming a brilliant magenta. The second woman had long, snowy white hair, piercing red eyes, and fair skin. She wore more traditional armor, though it was a mix of armor issued to mages and the more plentiful guardsmen.

"Jarvan, are we ready to go? Vorscham seemed worried when I talked to him." The snowy-haired woman wore a worried frown.

"I'm sure he's fine, June." The red head's voice was slightly deeper, but there was emotion in her voice that spoke of how she cared for the woman.

"Thanks, Shy, but I'm not just worried about Vorshcam." Alicia Juniper shivered in her saddle, the horse snorting in distress at the woman's concern. "I'm worried about what we're going to find. It takes a lot to shake Vorscham up, especially after simply talking to a scout."

"What about my father?" Jarvan asked, glancing from one woman to the other. "Where is the king?"

"He and his personal guard rode ahead. They're with Vorscham right now, your highness." Shyvana said stiffly. There was tension in her body when she spoke of the king. "I believe he's the one who summoned you specifically."

Jarvan grunted softly but nodded. "Very well. He wouldn't… well, no, he would summon me even if it wasn't important." He sighed softly. "Right behind you, love."

Shyvana nodded, color tinging her cheeks a slight shade of pink before she turned and snapped the reigns, her gaze still settled on the prince. Jarvan glanced at her briefly before nodding in return and snapped the reins of his horse, kicking the beast into a canter. "Let's move."

The Sergeant Major sighed and turned to one of the sergeants. "Delancey, you watch the kids, I'm headed down the column. Make sure we didn't lose anybody. I'll be back in five."

"Aye, sir." The young sergeant nodded and saluted as the Sergeant Major spun and headed back down the column of troops to talk to some of the other Victoria Company platoon leaders. Delancey spun and posted her fists on her hips, frowning at the soldiers around her. The breeze billowed her hair about, the blue locks getting blown into her eyes. She tried to blow the locks out of her face but the gesture did nothing. She sighed and hung her head before brushing the hair out of her eyes.

"Smooth, sarge." One of the newer soldiers chuckled quietly as he watched the slight sergeant turn, posting her hands upon her hips again. She wore a dark frown as she glared at the soldier. Though the soldier that had laughed wasn't much taller than Delancey, she still had to look up at him as she closed.

"You go something to say Balthosar?" Delancey jabbed him in the chest once and the newer soldier stood up straighter, his thumbs perfectly in line with the seam of his trousers. "Well, do you?" The soldier shook his head briefly, his glasses bouncing upon his nose. He stared straight forward, his pale face blushed a violent red in the cheeks as he stared straight over Delancey's head, glaring off into the distance.

Another soldier grunted as he rose up from where he was slumped over his arms and armor. The man was a mountain of muscle and steel plating, heavy armor covering every inch of the front of his body, including his face. He stood up straight, and Delancey had to crane her neck to stare up into the darkness of the soldier's hidden expression. She gulped audibly as the soldier released half of his massive, two part shield, the ground shuddering underfoot as he dropped it.

"Jonah, it's not necessary." Balthosar said, taking a deep breath and exhaling heavily. He breathed rapidly several times and then blew out a last explosive breath. Delancey turned back to the shorter soldier, blinking her surprise away, trying to force the frown back onto her face. He sucked in a deep breath and set his expression. He refused to look at the sergeant, but he remained at attention, turning back, his feet planted. "Ma'am, I have nothing to say, _ma'am_."

"Very well." Delacney said, taking a deep breath as she turned toward the hulking, mountain of a man. "What's your story… ' _Jonah'_ was it?"

"You attack Balto." The man rumbled softly, his words slow but deliberate. "I no like when Balto hurts."

Delancey took a step back, frowning, glaring up at the massive soldier. She started to open her mouth but she was cut off.

"Ma'am, if I may?" Balthosar said, stepping forward. He was still somewhat rigid in his stance. Delancey blinked twice before nodding absentmindedly, shutting her mouth. "Thank you. The big guy here is Private Jonah Argyle, and you don't need to worry. Jonah here," Balto rapped his knuckles against the heavy metal plating. "And I, go way back to our childhood. He's never hurt so much as a fly, well, so long as they're innocent that is. While most people dismiss him 'cause he don't know talking good like me and you, so his vocabulistics is limited but don't let his appearance fool ya. He's smart as a whip."

"Is that so?" Delancey asked, hiding her confusion and surprise by deepening her frown and raising an eyebrow. "She turned to Jonah. What's… fifty-four times seven hundred and eighty one?"

Jonah didn't miss a beat. "Four… two… one… seven… four."

Delancey blinked a few times and turned to Balthosar. "Is that correct?"

The younger soldier ticked a few numbers off his hand a few times, furrowing his brow, darkening hazel eyes. "Uh… well I guess so. Ain't never been wrong before." Balthosar shrugged.

"I see. So what about you?" Delancey said, shrugging, trading a glance with Forsythe. "You don't seem like the type who would request this duty, Balthosar." She had to glance at his name stripe emblazoned across his chest to make sure she was getting it right.

"Lance Corporal Garrison Balthosar, Technical Specialist." He saluted Sergeant Delancey before stepping back. "If it runs on gears, electricity, oil or techmaturgy, chances are I can fix it, no prob." He wore a grin as he tapped himself on his chest "I may not know how it works,but gimme twenty minutes and I'll fix just 'bout anything."

"Know it all." The pop of a bubble echoed through the group. The emerald eyes and amber hair belonged to a young woman with tanned skin and a face decorated with freckles and dominated by an easy manner. "Keep your excitement under control, kiddo. You might bounce right out of your damn boots if you're not careful." The young woman chomped down on a piece of gum as she crossed her arms over his chest and smirked.

"Yeah, yeah, Jesarah." Balthosar snapped back, his voice surly as he took a step back, blushing lightly when he had overstepped his boundaries in from of another noncommisioned officer. "Apologies, sergeant. I got ahead of myself."

"It's fine." Delancey said, grinning slightly as she turned to the auburn haired woman. "What about you? What's your story?"

The young woman grunted softly, flipping her hair to the side as she turned away from the sergeant.

"Judging from the fact that you carry a surgical kit but don't bear the markings of a field doctor, I'd have to guess that you're either a medic or a surgeon's assistant." Forsythe said, stepping forward, posting a fist on his hip as his frowned turned into a thin grin. "You probably work for the good doctor yonder, right?" The towheaded Demacian's grin grew as he jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the wagon that separated the small unit under the prince from the remaining two platoons of Victoria Company. Perched on the bench, her nose buried in the book, Elvarran Brightstorm flipped through the pages of a heavy tome, her royal blue eyes dancing over the words within, a finger skimming along the musty text as she read. The doctor tucked a lock of golden hair behind her ear as she turned the page again.

Jesarah blinked once and frowned slightly. "How did you…"

"I thought I recognized you." Forsythe said, grinning. "You were helping her when Shyvana was moved to the Medical School at the academy, right?"

"Yeah… you…" Jesarah shook her head, looking back and forth between Forsythe and Delancey, taking a step back. Her mouth was hanging open as she did a double take and then shook her head. When she looked up there was anger in her eyes. "You're the two idiots who tore up the medical wing, right?! It took us nearly three days to clean that disaster up!"

Forsythe boomed a laugh, nodding his head. He dropped a hand on top of Delancey's head, grinning broadly. "Yep, that was us. And you are?" The woman grunted as she tossed her auburn hair back, clearing it from her eyes. It didn't clear the frown and displeasure from her face.

"Doctor's Mate Jesarah Yankov." She saluted lazily before shrugging. "Though I suppose the title 'Medical Assistant' is slightly more appropriate now. I met Elvarran back when she was doing rounds upon a Demacian ship-of-the-line, and I got dragged along to serve with her cause she liked my skills with my hands and I transferred from the Navy to the Army." She shrugged. "I was attached to Victoria company just recently, because of Elvarran's request. I was finishing out my rotation when you guys dropped the dragon girl into our lap."

"Damnit, Forsythe." Delancey grumbled, scooting out from under his hand. "Not in front of the kids." She straightened her hair and took a deep breath, looking at Jesarah with a frown. "Transfers like that usually take months. Your transfer doesn't have anything to do with the fact that you're Councilor Yankov's daughter, does it?"

"Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't." Jesarah shrugged tiredly. "I try to avoid that name when I can. Just call me Jessie. Jesarah if you must."

"You're rather forthcoming, aren't you?" Delancey said, raising an eyebrow. "Seems mighty suspicious…"

"I just hate secrets." Jesarah said, glancing away, she drew her shoulders in as her body language clearly depicted how she was becoming uncomfortable. "My father… well, he has a painful tendency to mix work with family."

Forsythe dropped his hand back on top of Delancey's head, pulling her away. "Ease up, Del. The least we can do is give her the benefit of the doubt. You owe her that much after trashing the med school."

Delancey turned, glaring fiercely up at the towheaded soldier. His eyes grew wider in fear at the glance as he pulled his hand back as if he expected her to bite. Delancey crossed her arms over her chest and sighed, heavily as she shook her hair out. "Need I remind you, _corporal_ , that your position is very much that my subordinate."

Forsythe's training kicked in and he snapped to attention. "Ma'am!" He barked fiercely, blushing thinly. Jesarah laughed lightly, mimicking the sound of a whip cracking and giving Forsythe a teasing grin. Delancey rolled her eyes as she glanced around, turning to the next soldier in the newly formed unit.

"What about you… Healthy, right?" Delancey looked up to the wagon's driver, a woman who looked to be a similar age to Elvarran, her skin fair, though the long, dark-brown hair that framed her face gave her a cheerful look to match her broad smile. The woman's eyes were closed as if she were resting peacefully. "Hey, smiles!" Delancey's impatience seemed to pull the woman's attention finally as she perked up and looked down at Delancey as the sergeant approached the cart. "What's your story?"

"Medical Officer Merrioneth Heally." She saluted politely, her smile shrinking only slightly as she looked around. "I've been assigned as the unit's primary field medical officer. I'll be keeping you lads and lasses healthy while we're out in the thick of it."

"Isn't that what Jessie here is for?" Balthosar asked with a slight frown. "We've sure got a lot of medical staff here…"

"Miss Yankov and I are being transferred to Kalamanda as an attachment to the forces there." Elvarran said without looking up from her book. "We won't be actively attached to your unit while working in the field, we'll be based with our main forces outside the city. I do believe I got assigned this post due to the prince and the dragon's tendencies to get themselves rather bloody, even in their day to day duties. Because of my familiarity with the dragon and the prince medically speaking, the king brought us along to keep them both healthy as possible. Miss Heally here is more than capable of dealing with any field incursions that you might run into."

Merrioneth blushed lightly, batting a hand through the air. "You flatter me, doctor. I'm only a simple medic."

"Best in the entire army." Elvarran said, finally looking up from her book, smiling at the young woman who sat next to her. "What's that the troopers are always calling you?"

"They call her 'Merry' because she always smiles." One of the remaining soldiers stepped forward from the side of the wagon, shrugging. "Her clerical magic is second to none, but next to my magic, it's hardly worth noting." The man pulled back the hood of his cloak revealing a buzzed head, a thin, well-kempt beard and a wild eyed smile. His dark skin was a startling contrast to the pale winter cloak he wore. He held his hands out in front of himself and let water rise up from the ground to swirl about his hands like a long, writhing snake. "The name's Marsellus Winters… but my friends just call me 'Ice'." He grinned as the serpentine stream of water straightened and hardened into a spear of ice that he raised like a weapon at Delancey. "Because I'm ice-cold in combat."

"I've heard about you." Merry said, her smile fleeting from her face. "You wounded two other trainees because of your overzealousness."

There was a blank expression on Delancey's face as she glazed over at his cocky words. Merry's words seemed to snap her back as she slapped a fist into an open palm. "Oh, right!" Delancey said, pointing at the man and snapping several times as if she were struggling to remember something. "You… you graduated from the Magical Academy with Luxanna Crownguard, didn't you? I've heard about you!" Winter's grin faded slightly at the mention of the younger Crownguard sibling.

"Oh yeah?" Winters prompted, forcing a sly grin onto his face. "What'd you hear from little Luxie? All good things, I assume?"

Delancey snorted a sharp chuckle out. "Hardly! You're a prima-donna with some talent and a predisposition for mirrors, liquor, and cheap women." Delancey took a step forward and jabbed him in the chest, her finger lashing out like a saber. The man's ego deflated visibly as he shrunk back, the spear of ice melted instantly and splattering across the ground. "Oh, and Lux had a nickname for you… what was it? Marty? _Marcy_?"

"My name is not Marcy!" Winters shouted, his chest heaving angrily. He froze as his eyes traversed the formation of soldiers, all of their eyes on him now. He coughed into his hand and took a deep breath as he ran his hands down his cloak, collecting himself as he straightened up slightly taller. "Just _Winters_ will do for now. Magic is my specialty: assault spells and shielding primarily." He turned away and strode off to the edge of the road, putting some distance between himself and the others.

"Personable, isn't he?" Forsythe said with a snort. He looked down at Delancey, her gaze following the mage as he walked away. "Oi, Del…" He tapped her on the arm and the sergeant jumped.

"What?" Delancey shook her head and looked up at the corporal.

"You think he's cute, don't you?" Forsythe said, frowning slightly, leaning backwards and giving the sergeant a slight berth. Delancey raised an eyebrow, a thin grin pulling at the corner of her mouth.

"Maybe…" Delancey said, tapping a finger against her chin coyly.

"Great." Forsythe grumbled, shaking his head. He started to turn away, but Delancey reached out and grabbed the collar of his cuirass, pulling him back towards her.

"Corporal Ellington Forsythe, are you jealous?" Delancey purred.

"Maybe…" Forsythe blushed lightly, looking down at Delancey. "…Yeah."

Delancey looked about quickly, and satisfied that no one was looking, she jerked Forsythe down and kissed him on the lips. "You're lucky. Blondes are my type." She gave his hair a brief tug and grinned at him, winking and biting her lip as she ran a finger down the left side of his face. "I think the scars are pretty sexy too."

Forsythe blushed furiously as he stood up straight and turned away, doing his best not to completely lose his composure.

"What about you, tall, dark, and cloak-y?" Delancey said as she peeled away from the corporal, turning on the last member of their team. The sergeant eyed the man and his dark, heavy winter cloak, a sight even among their company considering the humidity of the melting snow and the warm rays of sun falling from high in the sky. "You got a name or a story while we're all sharing?"

The man shifted against the side of the cart, looking up from the ground. His face was hidden by the sun though, and only a scarf pulled tightly over his face could be seen. He pulled a long, thin package closer to his body, holding the strap over his shoulder. He grunted as his hand flexed, heavily tanned skin showing beneath the bandages that wrapped his hands.

"That's hardly an answer…" Delancey muttered, frowning.

"Call me _Jaeger_." He growled with a gravelly voice. He turned and started towards the rear of the wagon before the sergeant could ask another question.

"What was that about?" Delancey grumbled, posting her hands upon her hips.

"Drop it, Delancey." The Sergeant Major growled as he approached. Delancey snapped off a salute as the Sergeant Major stomped up before turning to the runner he had approached with. "Go fetch the medics from C and D platoons of Victoria Company and get to the head of the company. Move." The runner snapped off a salute and scampered off towards the end of the column.

"What's going on, sir?" Delancey said with a frown. "We haven't had any orders to my knowledge. I was under the assumption that we were heading straight to Kalamanda without delay."

"A and B platoons are deploying forward. As for us, we get to deal with the real trouble." Perrywinkle grumbled. "Doctor Brightstorm, I need you and Heally to come with me…" He frowned and then shook his head. "Fuck it, rest of you, come with me as well. I'm going to need the help." He paused for a moment before shaking his head and sighing softly. He pulled a small key ring from his belt and tossed it to Balthosar. "Remove the shackles from the private."

The squad frowned and turned towards the heavily cloaked soldier. He had silently returned from skulking around the rear of the wagon. Balthosar looked down at the key and then up the man's body before turning to blink lamely at the Sergeant Major. "Sir, no offense, but… _what_ shackles?"

There was a brief shudder and then a massive clatter as metal chain hit the ground with a sharp rattle. The cloaked man held his hands out, revealing tanned skin bound with heavy iron shackles. The chains were long and massively thick, leaving an imprint in the boot hardened mud. "You heard the Sergeant Major, _Balto._ Get these things off me." His voice was scathing, sharp like a razor blade.

"R-right away." Balthosar murmured, struggling with the weight of the chains. He inserted the key into the shackles and removed them one by one. They hit the ground as Jaeger hissed softly in relief, his voice quivering under his breath as he rubbed his wrists. "Such a pity. The _cuffs_ chafe so bad. And my weapon?"

Balthosar looked to the Sergeant Major as Jaeger held out the long, cloth-swaddled bundle. No one had noticed them before, but like the man's shackles, there were heavy iron bars that bound the long weapon in an unusable club like state. The Sergeant Major scowled but nodded. "Do it. Stow the chains in the wagon and then get ready to move."

"Aye, sir." Balthosar acknowledged softly, nodding, a wary gaze now settled on the cloaked man. He removed the one large bolt that bound the weapon around the midsection, and then removed a thick bolt that ran through the middle of the swaddling. "There, ya creepy bastard."

"Private, get moving." The Sergeant Major growled. "And remember your part of the deal."

"Aye-aye, Sergeant Major." The man gave the noncom a lazy, almost mocking salute before ducking and disappearing into the underbrush.

"I never even realized he was shackled." Balthosar muttered. He tossed the key back to the Sergeant Major who caught it and clipped it to his belt. He spun, waved his troops forward, and then set off at a jog. Balthosar grumbled to himself as he struggled with the links, dropping the chains onto the edge of the wagon. He grunted as he sprinted around the wagon to catch up with the other members of his squad. "Those things weigh a ton. I don't know who the hell he is, but fuck me I'm impressed."

"I noticed the new key, but I had no idea what it was for." Delancey murmured, her eyes settling on the Sergeant Major's back. The two platoons in front of them had already moved up, stepping off the road as they advanced. They had formed phalanxs along either side of the road, and they had raised lances and shields to the forests beyond.

Merrioneth snapped the reigns and the cart trundled forwards following the men as they moved up the road. The eyes of Victoria Company seemed to focus on them as they passed and some of them seemed to almost cower from the attention. Some, however seemed to relish it. Delancey rolled her eyes when she noticed that Winters was walking with an awkward swagger. Forsythe noticed and slowed so he was pacing the sergeant and she gestured in the direction of the mage. The corporal snorted just loud enough that the Sergeant Major noticed from his position at the head of the column.

"Delancey, take over." He ordered, jerking his thumb towards the front of the group.

"Sir!" Delancey snapped before taking off at a trot to take her position. She glanced over her shoulder and cast a quick apologetic smile at Forsythe. The Sergeant Major frowned as he slowed and let his pace match the corporal.

"You find something funny, Corporal Forsythe?" Perrywinkle asked menacingly, not even bothering to looking in Forsythe's direction. "Marcy, you dancing or are you marching, soldier?" The mage looked back over his shoulder with a venomous expression. The Sergeant Major's expression remained impassible and Winters turned back to the road ahead of him. He slumped his shoulders as he glowered but he stopped his swagger. The Sergeant Major grunted in satisfaction before turning back to Forsythe. The towheaded soldier quickly cleared the grin from his face. "You were saying, corporal?"

"It was nothing, Sergeant." Forsythe said stiffly, straightening up.

"What was that?" Perrywinkle cast Forsythe a menacing glare.

"No, Sergeant Major." Forsythe paled slightly, realizing his mistake. "Nothing is funny, sir."

"You're damn right nothing's funny." Perrwinkle grumbled. "You wanna joke? Let's see if you can still make jokes when you see what the fuck we're dealing with."

"Sir?" Forsythe looked over at the noncom, but the Sergeant Major's face was an impenetrable mask, a dark glower plastered on his mug.

There was a light curve in the road as they passed the forward guard of Victoria Company's A Platoon. For several long moments the only thing that could be heard was the sound of boots on gravel and the trundle of a cart. There was a clearing off to the side of the road, and as Delancey brought the column to a halt along the edge of road, the realization of what was lain out around them slowly sunk in as the metallic scent began to settle in their nostrils.

"Goddess…" Delancey whispered. Jarvan, Shyvana and the King stood at the edge of the road, silently looking out over the carnage.

The stench of blood was overwhelming; crimson puddles of melted snow and blood covered the road and littered the clearing up to the edge of the forest. Hundreds of wagons lay in ruins, crates of supplies lay tossed about left and right across the area. Some had been smashed open and supplies lay littered about the area haphazardly.

"This attack…" Shyvana hissed softly. She close her eyes and kneeled down as she fished a piece of cloth from a puddle of blood, the liquid was growing thick and black. The heat of the blood hand melted snow, leaving massive gaps in the banks of snow where the spray of blood had landed.

"This was no attack." Jarvan growled. "This was a massacre."

Shyvana held up the scrap of fabric for Jarvan. "My prince… look." Jarvan glanced down at the fabric as she laid it in his hand. Jarvan ran a finger across the embroidered fabric and the faded emblem before he clenched his fist, gritting his teeth.

There were more pieces of armor and scraps of uniform, coated in blood, strewn everywhere.

... _Demacian_ uniforms and armor.


	4. Chapter 2: Massacre

"What happened here?" The king growled as he looked out over the desolation that marred the ground and snow with crimson and scraps of blue. He balled his fists in frustration as he turned to the Scout Lieutenant that stood lamely beside the road, his face blank as he looked out over the desolation. The king surged forward and grabbed the Lieutenant by the collar and shook him violently, forcing the man to look into his furiously swirling blue eyes. "Tell me! What happened!?"

"I…" The officer glanced over and started to shake his head. "I-I-I… don't…" The king snarled in frustration as he released the officer and storming a few steps away. The king froze as he struggled to regain his composure, realizing all eyes had settled on him. The lieutenant took a step back before stumbling and collapsing down onto his tail, blinking lamely as his hand shifting amid the mud. He lifted his hand up to his face as his eyes glazed over. His hand was covered in blood. "I don't know…" The officer shook his head as he scrubbed his hands over his cloak, furious trying to clean the blood from his hand. His scrubbing grew frantic as he yanked his gloves off, but it had already soaked through to the skin. He pushed himself around, only spreading the blood about his hands as is soaked up into his cloak.

"Fool…" The king grumbled as he shook his head, standing up straighter than before. The officer shook his head wildly as the medic dropped down next to him.

Jesarah grabbed his head roughly, holding him still as she slid in front of him, dropping to one knee. "Do not move." She ordered firmly. "And it might not hurt." The man whimpered softly but held still, his hand fidgeting against his cloak. Jesarah sighed softly as she dropped her medical bag into the snow. She opened it and withdrew a thin, dark rod, a slight bulge at one end that hand a hole at the center. Jesarah shook the rod several times before striking the bulge on the surface of the man's hardened heather knee armor. The rod began to emit a glow that grew in intensity over the next several seconds. Jesarah flashed the light over her palm before she was satisfied. She took the man by the chin, using one hand to hold him still as she flashed the light into his eyes. She watched for his eyes to dilate but they remained large, dark circles. He glanced about nervously, tugging against her hold after the light faded.

"How is he?" Jarvan asked gruffly, his eyes following his father as the king paced.

"He's in shock." Jesarah muttered, shaking her head. "He's probably on the verge of going into cardiac arrest. The horror of seeing all these bodies must have caused his blood pressure to spike hard. He's too damn old to be out here… what the hell is a man like this doing in the scouts anyways?"

"Treat him as best you can." Jarvan grunted as he steeled his stomach. "And then we need you back. We're going to have to sort this out, and I have questions to ask him."

"Right." Jesarah muttered as she shook her head. "Hey Merry, give me a hand, yeah?"

"On it." Heally acknowledged as she handed the reigns over to the blonde doctor.

Elvarran moved the cart off the edge of the road before parking it and taking a deep breath. "Merrioneth, Jessie, have the man moved onto the back of the cart for now." She ordered as she stood up. The doctor tied the reins off to the cart before she hopped down, splashing a fine spray of blood and mud over her boots. She frowned ever so slightly and sighed as she shook a chunk of ice from her boot, moving around the edge of the cart. She hauled herself onto the gate and stood in the back of the cart. She posted a hand on her hip as she turned slowly. "Something is wrong here."

"What's wrong?" Jesarah asked as she and Merrioneth lifted the man onto the edge of the gate with a grunt. Jesarah took a moment to catch her breath while Merry lifted his legs up onto the gate.

"Something just seems off…" Elvarran murmured as her frown darkened.

"Is there a problem, Doctor?" Prince Jarvan asked as he looked up at doctor where she stood on the front of the cart. "Do you know something you're not telling me?"

"No, your highness." The doctor said with a frown and a slight shake on the head. "I just don't feel right here. There's something wrong about the bodies. Something just seems... _off._ "

The king frowned for a moment as he looked out over the field, trying to figure out what the doctor had meant. His frown darkened for a brief moment before a moment of revelation slid over his face. "Yes… yes." The king murmured softly. "Doctor Brightstorm?"

The doctor turned to the king, her expression that of curiosity. "Yes, your highness?"

"I have a rather gruesome thought." The king grimaced as he exhaled softly. "Is it just me or are their far too many body parts but far too few torsos…"

"What do you mean?" Elvarran said, looking around. "You think that they removed the torsos on purpose?" Doctor Brightstorm tapped a finger against her chin for a moment. "I'm not terribly well versed in psychology or warfare, but I can obviously see the benefits of a mental attack of trying to make it look like a far more gruesome scene than it really was…"

The king hung his head for a few moments before he exhaled heavily. "Doctor, I _AM_ well enough versed in psychological warfare that I wouldn't be asking you for your opinion on the warfare in this situation. The fact that every single head has been removed is more than enough demonstration of that. I wanted to know your rough estimate of complete of bodies we have here."

"Oh." The doctor blinked a few times before turning back to the field. Her eyes bounced about for only a few seconds before she frowned slightly. "I count forty-seven torsos in plain view." She looked down to the ground before hopping down off of the cart. "Can I observe the bodies up close? I'd like to try and get some sense of what sort of tool was used to dismember the bodies."

The king frowned slightly but nodded. "Of course. Jarvan?" The prince stood at the edge of the road, staring out over the field, his expression blank and angry. "Jarvan!" The prince snapped his head around, turning on the king, his expression turning from anger to fury.

"I will find whoever is responsible for this… this atrocity." Jarvan growled softly, clenching his fists, his pale knuckles trembling in rage. "And I will wring every ounce of blood spilled on this field from their body personally." Shyvana reached out and set a hand on Jarvan's shoulder. The prince glanced back at her, his expression fierce. He glared at her for a second before he took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose, turning back to his father. He bowed his head for a brief moment. "Apologies… this scene brings back memories that I am not fond of revisiting." The fury had been muted, but only slightly. It was no longer aimed at the king, rather the prince's frustrations seemed to be aimed at the very situation he was subject to view.

"I would be more frightened if you were calm." The king hissed as he kneeled down, pressing his fingers into the bloody puddle. He frowned as he pushed himself back to his feet. "Demacian blood has been spilled, that is true, but you must remain of the appearance of calm, my son."

"Why!?" Jarvan snarled back, his temper flaring momentarily. "I've seen scenes like this at the hand of Noxians before, lest you forget the injustice I was served by Swain! I know it in my gut, father, the Noxians are responsible for this!"

"Have you learned nothing?" The King sighed softly, shaking his head. He turned to the prince and glared at him, his eyes a deep, stormy blue. The prince, though taller, withered slightly under his father's gaze. "You are not just a soldier anymore. You can't just go romping off to attack someone on a simple whim! You have to think first!"

"But Father!" Jarvan replied, but the king simply raised a hand turned away.

Jarvan III took a step away from his son and then sighed heavily. "Have your men clear the bodies. I know you won't give up on this. If you can produce some sort of proof, I will gladly support your claims, but until you can show me something that holds the Noxians responsible, you have no basis to lay these allegations at their feet."

Jarvan's body was still tense, but he was silent. His mouth was an impassable line for several seconds before he sighed tiredly and nodded. "Yes father, you're right." Jarvan muttered, his voice slightly begrudging. He turned back to the carnage, his eyes settling on something distant he could not see.

"Now." The king said firmly.

The prince perked up slightly from where he was lost in thought, stepping forward. His face had been a dark mask, his mouth a thin line before he looked up. "Yes, your highness?" There was a slight testiness in his voice as he looked down at his father. The king brushed it off as nerves because of his familiarity with this sort of gruesome scene. The king took a moment to look past the uniform his son wore and looked into the blue-grey eyes that had come from his mother. The king exhaled slowly. "Are you feeling well?"

Jarvan had been wearing an intense expression but for a brief moment he looked taken aback, as if he had been rocked back in his boots. Jarvan's face softened for a brief moment but it faded quickly as he straightened up, his back now rigid and straight. The king noted that the only one who had noticed the change in the prince's mood was Shyvana. The dragoness glanced from the king to Jarvan, her jaw setting in a worried line when she noticed the king's gaze. The king closed his eyes for a brief moment before turning back to his son. Jarvan had hardened his expression. "I'm fine, sir."

"Very well." The king said softly. _So that's how it is going to be._ "Can you arrange for several of your men to escort the doctor into the field?"

"Yes, sir." The prince said, nodding. He stepped away, turning to his men, putting space between the kind and himself. "Del, Forsythe, you're up. Escort the doctor through the field." Jarvan paused. "Father, permission to deploy Victoria company in defensive positions along the borders of the fields."

"Of course." The king said nodding. "Son."

"Yes?" Jarvan responded, tensing up again.

"I want you to lead this investigation." The king said firmly.

Jarvan blinked lamely, his shoulders sinking for a few moments. "Sir?"

"You know the situation better than anyone, including myself." The king said firmly, sighing softly. "You will keep me up to date on the situation, but I want you to have the freedom and room to do what you need to to get to the bottom of this."

The prince frowned for a moment but finally nodded. "I won't let your trust go to waste, father."

"Good." The king said, taking a deep breath. "I take my leave for now. I must speak with my staff about these developments. As soon as you know something, please let me know."

"Sir." Jarvan saluted.

"Jarvan, if I may, can I escort the doctor?" Shyvana asked, stepping forward.

The prince blinked once before nodding. "Of course, Shy. Del, take over for her for now." The blonde sergeant nodded, stepping up to the Prince's side. Her blue forelocks bobbed up and down as she clicked her heels together.

"At least I don't have to go muck around in that mess." Delancey muttered, shivering slightly. Jarvan turned, looking down at her. She was paler than normal, but she had set her jaw, a thin line of a frown plastered across her face. "I have a strong stomach, but this… this is a tragedy. Some of these men were probably friends."

"Losing friends like this is always hard." Jarvan said softly as a haggard expression slid over his face, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

Delancey blinked once before looking up at the prince and blinked twice as the thought registered with her memory. She blushed slightly and straightened up in surprise. "Sorry, sir." She stammered. "I didn't mean to… well… you know."

"It's fine, Del." Jarvan said, exhaling slowly. "That was a long time ago. Those specters have long been buried."

"Yes sir." Delancey said softly. Vorscham stepped up, his limp barely noticeable, exaggerated by the long hours spent riding his horse. He sighed softly and ran a hand over his face. "Sir." The gruesome scene seemed to have drained Delancey of even her normal amount of cheer and pep. Even the blue of her hair seemed muted from its normally vibrant color.

"This isn't probably more than a few platoons of Soldiers." Vorscham growled. "Not a few hundred. The bodies were shredded and strewn about to look like a far greater number were killed. If the doctor's count is even remotely accurate we're likely looking at two platoons with a number of missing bodies."

Jarvan watched as Shyvana, Forsythe and Doctor Brightstorm approached one of the wagons that had run off the road and toppled over. Shyvana and Forsythe had to work for a moment to get the boarding off the side, but after they did, Forsythe lifted the good doctor up and set her on the edge of the cart before she could slither inside the covered wagon and out of sight. Jarvan noticed a slight change in the stance of his sergeant as Forsythe took a step back and brushed what little could be seen of his clothes beneath his armor clean of dirt.

"Not getting jealous, are we?" Jarvan asked, a thin grin starting over his face.

"Jealous? Me?" Delancey said slightly too loudly. A few of the other soldiers from the Prince's staff glanced in her direction from where they talked behind the cart, the noise of their voices dying slightly. The king seemed to have paid no heed though. "I'm not the jealous type." There was a subtle begrudging undertone that spoke otherwise. "But I have to wonder why Shyvana wanted to talk to her. And don't think I haven't noticed that the doctor has been reading ancient texts on dragon rearing. There isn't some other motive here, is there?" Delancey leaned in. "You and Shyvana expecting perhaps?"

Jarvan turned to glare at the sergeant and she snickered, a cat like grin spreading over her face.

The prince sighed. "I wish that were the problem." Jarvan muttered, shaking his head. Delancey's smile faded slightly and a frown replaced the playful gesture.

"Is everything alright, sir?" Her voice was slightly softer, and the playful tone had been replaced with concern. "Are you and Shyvana alright?"

"Huh?" Jarvan stood up slightly straighter. "No, nothing like that." He shook his head before pulling his helm off and running a hand through his hair. "I'm worried about Shyvana. I don't know if she's not acclimating to the role as my bodyguard well, or if she's simply unhappy with it. She's been distracted ever since we left the palace."

"Is she lapsing in her duties?" Delancey asked, frowning slightly.

"Not in the least." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "I actually feel safer knowing she's looking over me at all times than even when I had an entire company of my own who was there to keep me safe." There was a moment of weakness that shown on his face as he inhaled and exhaled slowly, but the window slammed shut almost immediately. "There's no one I would rather entrust my life to…"

"I'm hurt." Delancey said, wearing a smirk. There was a moment of lapse on the prince's face before a thin grin grew out of the absence of thought.

"Are you really going to compare yourself to a fire-breathing half dragon, Sergeant Delancey?" Jarvan shifted his weight slightly as his grin grew slightly larger at the offended look on the sergeant's face. "And if I remember correctly, Shyvana and I handily beat you and Forsythe in a fair fight, despite your boyfriend trying to kill us both with a bomb the size of my head."

"He can be a bit wild, yes." Delancey said, shaking her head softly. Jarvan's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at her. Delancey blushed furiously when she realized what she said. "Not like that, that's not what I meant. He's just very spontaneous." She straightened up and took a deep breath before looking up at the prince. "How did you deal with him when he was under your command?"

"Isaacs kept him in line most times." Jarvan said softly, exhaling slowly with a measured breath. "He was always pushing the LT's nerves one way or another. Between his temper and his willingness to do just about anything… he was a handful during the first few months of his assignment to my unit." There was a moment of sadness in his voice before he sighed and shrugged. "I'm curious about how you keep him in check personally. Seems like with you being the senior officer and all, outside of work, things could be a bit odd."

"What makes you think I have time outside of work?" Delancey snorted, grinning. "I haven't had a day off since I started working for you."

"...You have a point." Jarvan said, shaking his head and grinning slightly. He turned back to field and the few moments of relief he had felt suddenly evaporated. Dread pooled in his stomach as he watched Shyvana, Forsythe and Elvarran pick their way through the field from body to body. Forsythe had either produced or been given a small notebook and he was writing annotations in it every time they stopped to examine a different body part. Jarvan noted that the doctor spoke a few words before he wrote something in the book each time. They approached another overturned cart before Shyvana and Forsythe froze. The corporal grabbed the doctor and swept her back behind him, keeping one armed raised like a shield.

"Looks like trouble." Jarvan murmured, grabbing his lance and lifting it onto his shoulder. "Possibly survivors. Miss Yankov, is the scout stabilized?"

The amber haired woman looked slightly annoyed at his choice of words but she exhaled sharply and ducked down below the edge of the cart for a brief moment. She sat back up and then shrugged. "He's sedated, but I don't know if I gave him a strong enough dose… I don't want to run through too much of our limited medical supplies before we even get to Kalamanda. I'd like to stay with him in case he wakes."

"Do it." Jarvan said firmly. "Marcy, Jonah, you're on support duty for now."

"My name is not _Marcy_!" Marsellus stomped his foot hard, but the prince had already turned his attention elsewhere.

"You're to prioritize the Doctor's safety over mine." Jarvan said firmly. "I can pull myself out of a sticky situation. She can't."

"Yes." Jonah said softly, his voice rumbling. He raised the massive shield as if it were nothing, saluting with what looked like the weight of the entirety of Jarvan's own lance and armor on one hand.

"Whatever." Marsellus muttered. Jarvan watched as Balto drew his Piltovan rifle, and cycled the bolt back, examining the chamber. He pulled a clip from one the pouches on his chest and examined it before pushing it into slot on the back of the weapon under the stock. He turned the weapon over and flipped a switch, the weapon humming to life and starting to glow a bright blue. He cycled the bolt forward and rested it against his chest.

"Sergeant Major." Jarvan turned to the noncom as he stepped forward.

The Sergeant Major looked over at the weapon that Balto carried and snorted before turning back to the prince. "Sir?" Jarvan had watched the Sergeant Major's interest, following his gaze as he looked over the weapon.

"Seen the new rifles, Sergeant Major?" Jarvan asked, noting his interest. "They're being tested for mass deployment with the Piltovan constabulary and our own armed forces."

"Their lady sheriff carries a Mark I if I recall." The Sergeant Major grunted as he eyed the weapon. He shrugged and turned away from the soldier and his weapon. "Impressive weapon. Solid Projectile and long range. Piltovan Mark II's though? Bah."

"It's supposed to be a pretty good weapon." The prince said, shrugging.

"Feels like a toy." The Sergeant Major grunted. "Too much glass and plastic and moving parts. Believe I'm just going to stick with my saber, personally."

"Think we're going to get close enough to the enemy to use that?" Jarvan asked with a thin grin.

"What do you think, sir?" Perrywinkle's eyes glimmered for a moment as he turned back to the other officers.

Jarvan nodded knowingly. "Point, Sergeant Major. I want you to take Captain Vorscham and deploy Victoria company east and west along the road. No one gets close, not even viewing distance. You hear me?"

"Yes sir." The sergeant major snapped off a salute and turned to leave. Vorscham was distant, speaking with some of the men of his company.

"Gunny Juniper." Jarvan turned, looking for the snowy haired woman. "June?"

"Here sir." June said, stepping forward and saluting smartly, her eyes only briefly bouncing to the field before they locked on the prince. She still held onto the leads of her horse and Captain Vorscham's. "Orders?"

"You're to fetch one platoon and bring them back here." Jarvan said, taking a slow breath. "You're on cleanup duty. I want you to pile and burn the body parts after we finish retrieving identification tags. No one needs to see their sons and daughters like this."

The gunnery sergeant looked squeamish, her china-like skin paling slightly, but she nodded firmly as she gulped. "Yes sir. I'll fetch C platoon. Lieutenant Steelarm always had a thing for messy jobs."

"Get on it." Jarvan said. "I'll make it up to you later, alright?" June nodded as she mounted her horse and took off in the direction of Vorscham and the latter two platoons of Victoria company's four.

"What about us?" Delancey asked as she stepped forward, posting her hands on her hips.

"Delancey, Merry and Balto, you're with me," Jarvan said firmly. "Let's move." Merry grabbed her medical bag as she dropped from the cart and headed towards the others. Balto kept one hand on his weapon, the other hanging on his side as his eyes scanned the field nervously.

"Nervous, newbie?" Delancey said with a smirk. "Don't worry. Everything is dead out here. Only think you need to worry about are the ghosts."

"Argyle and me, well we was raised in the border towns up north." Balto said stiffly as he picked his way over a thigh. "We dealt with all kinds of Freljordian Barbarian Raiders for years before the Demacian Military sent their garrison up to help the village fight off the raiders. Problem was that by the time the garrison arrived, we'd lost just about all of the parents, leaving only a couple of kids and elders. Death like this was like dealing with snow while walking to the market for us though. Didn't matter how you got there, no matter what route you took, it was still there in the end. Barbarian Raiders don't leave much behind. Women, crops, kids... there was little that didn't get taken, burned or killed. This… this is nothing."

"That's rough." Delancey said softly. "I can't imagine…"

"No, you can't." Balthosar said, shaking his head. Delancey opened her mouth to reply, but thought better of it and snapped it shut.

"Forsythe, Shyvana, report." Jarvan said stiffly as he splashed to a halt, nearing the cart.

"We thought we heard movement." Forsythe shrugged, his shield shifting on his back as his shoulders rose and fell. "I can't get any more movement or even sound right now though."

"Very well." The prince said, examining the cart. "Can we get this thing righted?"

"I'll get on it." Forsythe grumbled slightly as he pulled his greatsword from his back and set about trying to lever the cart onto its three remaining wheels."Hey new guy, gimme a hand, would you?" There was indiscernible grumbling as Forsythe set about his work. Balthosar shouldered his own weapon, slinging the strap over his back as he set about trying to help the corporal, grumbling on his own about the label he had been given.

"So doctor, anything you can give me on what was used to dismember these soldiers?" Jarvan asked, eyeing an arm that lay near his feet with disdain.

"It's not like anything I've ever seen in my time studying medicine." The doctor said, shrugging as she rolled the arm over with the tip of her boot. She brushed golden blonde hair from her face as she kneeled down, pulling back the uniform tunic that surrounded the wound site. "But at a rough guess, I would have to say that it was some sort of axe… perhaps with a serrated edge? There are multiple signs of pinching in the muscle tissue, and there are jagged edges in some places where multiple attempts were used to cut through the flesh and bone. That brings me to another point. The weapon used must have been pretty dull. Most of these dismembering wounds were made after a large number of attempts to cut through on both sides, as if they hacked halfway through and rolled them over to hack through the other side, shown by noticeable crushing in the bone and joint structure. The force required must have been immense. The weapons will be decidedly unique."

"An extremely dull, serrated axe?" Jarvan frowned slightly. "It sounds like someone used some sort of shears. Are there any big farms in the area that would have something like that? Serrated shears that would be strong enough to cut through flesh and bone?

"Perhaps a butcher?" Delancey suggested. "Though, usually they prefer really big knives to shears…"

"Please tell me you've not taken up carrying a giant butcher's knife now, Delancey." Jarvan muttered, running a hand down his brow and over his eyes.

Delancey glanced away, the barest of color tinging her cheeks. "I like knives, but that was a bit impractical, even for Forsythe's tastes. He thought it'd make a funny gift." Delancey looked back at the prince, snapping the smirk from his face. "Your shears are a much better idea." Jarvan exhaled sharply and took the forceful tone of her voice as a hint to move the subject away from the corporal.

"Shears?" Elvarran looked up from where she was working and tapped a finger against her chin, leaving a bloody, muddy mark. "Yes, that could explain the pinching and crushing." She kneeled back down and started looking for another dismembered body part. She pawed over a couple of arms before grabbing a leg, pulling it over with some exertion and turning it on end so she could examine the wound on the end. She dug into the joint, pushing her fingers deeper and deeper into the muscle. Her face lit up in a smile as she found what she was looking for within the limb. She braced her free hand against the joint and began to tug, ripping a large section of the bone free of the leg with a series of popping and tearing sounds. Jarvan felt his stomach turn and he saw Delancey turn and bend over, dribbling vomit across the ground. The doctor wore a victorious expression on her face as she held up her prize. It was sharp at one end, and tendrils of muscles still clung in place as gore dripped from within. She flipped it over in her hand, looking at the jointed end where it had been cut. The joy at her victory began to fade and a frown formed on her face.

"Something the matter, doctor?" Jarvan said weakly, his voice faded slightly from trying to hide the disgust in his voice. He had seen many dead bodies, but never one mangled so badly in front of his face.

"The weapon we're looking for aren't shears." She waved the bone about casting more gore off, splattering Shyvana's greaves with red matter. The dragoness frowned darkly, but the doctor seemed to simply ignore it as she pointed at the crushed joint. "We're looking for something that acts like shears, though only when enough force is used to shatter and rip the flesh in a single go."

"But not shears?" Jarvan said firmly, a frown on his face now.

"No." Elvarran responded firmly. She moved closer to Jarvan, getting close and bumping up against him as she pointed down at the bone so his gaze could fall over her shoulder. She pointed a finger along the edge of the shattered joint. "See where the cut and break happened? There are no tool marks. If this was cut by shears, there would be definitive marks. This was made by something else."

Shyvana kneeled down next to the limb that Elvarran had been working on and frowned as she lifted a flap of flesh, noting the green color and the soft condition the muscle tissue had already degraded to. "These look like bite marks." Shyvana said softly. "As if crushed by a giant beetle."

"That explains it." Elvarran said, nodding to herself, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"That makes perfect sense!" Delancey said, slamming a fist into her open hand. Everyone turned and looked at her, confusion on their faces at the lack of sarcasm in her voice. She paused, turning towards Elvarran. "Wait… why does that make sense?" Jarvan sighed and shook his head, watching as Shyvana dropped down onto one knee, running her hands along the hard packed snow.

"Find something?" Jarvan asked, noticing she had slowly separated from the group, stepping forward and looking down at the dragoness. Her eyes softened for just a moment as Jarvan moved closer, they hardened again when the doctor look a step.

"These tracks don't look human to me." Shyvana said, gesturing towards a set of boot prints in the ice and snow. "These deep holes," she pointed to a series of spike like indentations in a boot tracks. "These aren't snow boots. they're something deeper and far heavier. The tracks were made over top the indentations, as if to hide them."

"Astute observation." Doctor Brightstorm said, nodding as she leaned over and looked at the hole. "Most wouldn't have noticed that."

"I am not like most people." Shyvana growled softly. The doctor ignored the tone of her voice, now engrossed with the odd spearhead-like holes that had been punched into the ground.

"There are more holes over here." Balthosar said, leaning out from behind the wagon and pointing down at the ground, looking around at the ground with a frown. "And I don't recognize this boot tread either."

"And you know boot treads well?" Jarvan said, raising an eyebrow and glancing over at the young soldier. Balthosar stood up and shrugged.

"For this type of weather, yes." Balthosar said, shrugging as he looped the strap for his rifle over his shoulder. He lifted the edge of his helmet up as he looked around, a frown creasing his face. He turned slightly, looking further around before he frowned.

"Balto?" Delancey asked, casting a curious glare at the man. The Lance Corporal turned all the way around once, pausing facing in the opposite direction before shaking his head and turning back to the prince and the sergeant. "You see something?"

"Maybe." Balthosar muttered, scratching the side of his head before tugging his helmet back down over his face. "Sorry, as I was saying though, my Dah was the boot tailor for our lil' border town. He saw all sorts of business, and I helped him when I wasn't playing with Jonah. I could retread a boot before I could even write my name. That's how I got so good with boots. These boots though… they're not from south of the border with the Freljord."

"You think they're Freljordian though?" Jarvan asked pausing. His hand strayed to his shoulder, pressing the flesh where he had been shot with a Freljordian Black Ice Bolt.

"Most likely." Balthosar murmured as he kneeled down and looked over the tracks. He ran his fingers along the edge of the track and frowned. "They were fur lined… you can see the edges where the fur picked up a build up of ice. Something about the tread doesn't sit right with me though."

"There is no roll to the tread." Shyvana said, nodding. "These prints were simply pressed onto the snow, not actually stepped in by human feet."

"A diversion?" Jarvan asked, his frown turning dark.

"It is possible." Shyvana said, nodding as she pushed herself to her feet. "Someone really wants us to investigate the Freljord, don't they?"

Jarvan nodded. "Perhaps we can take a trip after this conflict in Kalamanda subsides." He grinned slightly. "You think the snowfall is amazing here… wait till you see the Freljord. There are ice formations hundreds of feet tall."

Shyvana nodded, a small smile forming on her face. "I'd like to see that some day."

The wagon creaked mightily as it rocked slightly and then twisted about, landing on it's wheels. The wheels shattered, spraying mud and ice across the group's boots. A piece of the wheel's spoke stroke Jarvan's shoulder and bounced away at an odd angle. Jarvan grunted as he started. "Damnit, Forsythe, give us some warning next time!" There was no response. Jarvan frowned as he started around the edge of the wagon. "Forsythe?"

"Hey Jarvan." Forsythe called as he pulled himself up to his feet, staring down at the ground. "You have to see this."

Jarvan frowned, but nodded, preparing himself for the worst.


	5. Chapter 3: Monster

Jarvan's mouth hung open as he looked down at what had been pinned under the wagon. The others kept their distance as he edged forward to ensure his eyes were not deceiving him.

"Is that…" Jarvan began to say, but his voice died as he swallowed forcefully.

"It's giant goddamn _spider_." Balthosar muttered under his breath in awe.

"Technically speaking, it's a giant arachnid." Doctor Brightstorm said, grinning happily as she started forward towards the monster. "It's curious though. It's not like most spiders who have a furry exterior… this one, despite extreme similarities to the arachnid family, specifically the aforementioned spiders, has an exoskeleton." It was easily half as big as a horse, and even dressed in mud and crusted blood, its glossy black shell was menacing. Eight spindly legs were splayed out around the beast, marks carved in the mud and ice where it had most likely spasmed violently when initially crushed. "I'd have to get a better look at its mouth, but I suspect that this fascinating creature's chelicerae are what caused the curious marks in the dismembered soldiers we encountered."

"Oh great. Giant spiders." Delancey muttered, her voice shaky.

"Even better." Forsythe said with a crooked grin as he looked over at Delancey. "Giant, flesh-eating spiders. I bet you're going to sleep really well tonight."

"I hope you don't get cold alone in your tent, corporal." Delancey hissed softly. Forsythe's grin vaporized and his shoulders slumped in regret. Delancey wore a thin smile as she looked to the prince, hoping her joke had helped lighten the mood slightly, but the prince's face was dark and brooding.

Shyvana dropped down, examining the two front legs of the monstrous spider. She ran her fingers along the smooth, cool shell of the monster, grimacing as her fingers came away wet. She looked down at the tips of her fingers and the armored gloves she wore. They were stained red. "It is definitely responsible for the deaths of these men." Shyvana said firmly, shaking her head. "There is blood all the way up the creature's leg."

"Damnit all." Jarvan growled, shaking his head. He exhaled softly, his fists forming into balls that shook violently for a moment before he forced his fists open. He nodded at the dragoness and then turned towards the doctor. She looked transfixed with the beast, her eyes already glimmering excitedly. "What would you need to confirm whether or not this ... _thing_ was responsible for the dismemberment of our soldiers, doc?" Elvarran was lost in thought as she paced, albeit slowly amid the mud, as she pondered the creature. She did not respond, so much as acknowledge the fact that Jarvan had spoken to her. "Doctor Brightstorm." Jarvan tried to garner her attention with her title, but again his call went unheeded. "Elvarran!"

"Huh?" The blonde doctor froze mid-stride and turned to look at the prince in surprise. "Yes?" She blinked a few times, looking at the prince's exasperated expression with confusion.

Jarvan sighed softly. "I asked you what you would need to figure if the jaws are our missing weapons. I need a definitive analysis of the wounds and this creature."

"Ah, yes." Elvarran said, nodding her head as she tapped a finger on her chin in a thoughtful manner. She glanced around and let a slight frown slide onto her face. "I don't think I can perform any sort of delicate operations here in this field. It will need to be moved to a sheltered location with a controlled environment where I can dissect and reconstruct its jaw to compare to the wounded body parts." She paused for a moment and turned slowly, looking out over the gruesome scene with a cold glance, the look in her eye calculating, the fascination and almost girlish thrill of the new discovery now gone."Speaking of, I'll need a full body assembled from all of the scraps we have available to us here. Do you think that possible?" The prince's expression darkened sharply and Balto, who had been following the conversation,sunk back, glancing back to the prince.

Forsythe sighed softly, shaking his head as a knowing crease slid into his brow. " _That ought to strike a nerve_..." Delancey nodded once at his whisper, despite the pale color of her face.

"These are not _scraps_ for you to paw through _, Doctor Brightstorm_." Jarvan growled, taking the doctor by surprise. She took a step back at the fierce tone of Jarvan's voice. She blinked several times before her eyes glazed over for a brief moment. She glanced around and realized that everyone was staring at her with a mixture of expressions of shock and disbelief.

"My apologies." The doctor said, saluting the prince with her best impression of a Demacian recruit. "My passion for science and knowledge sometimes overrides my faculties for courtesy and empathy." She paused for a minute as she straightened up, tugging her jacket smooth over her body. "With your highness's permission, I'd like to request as complete a body as possible from the remains recovered from the fields here. I would like to ensure that these fine men's slaughter does not go to waste."

The prince exhaled sharply, disdain still sitting residually in his expression as he looked down his nose at the doctor. "Is the monster safe to move?" He cast the eight legged beast a hesitant frown before turning back to the doctor.

"It should be." The doctor said, catching a glimpse of Jarvan's face and the anger he looked to be barely containing. "Yes, your highness. I'm sure that it will be perfectly safe to move."

Jarvan glared at her for a few moment, but the prospects of knowing who was responsible for this was tempting enough that Jarvan overrode his sense of judgment and acquiesced to the doctor's request. His shoulders slumped for a brief moment and he sighed, running a hand over his eyes, a moment of vulnerability showing on his face and in his eyes that only Shyvana noticed. "Fine, we'll take it with us to Kalamanda. Delancey."

"Yes sir?" The sergeant had been watching the exchange between the prince and the doctor with interest, though the prince could still see the discomfort in her shoulders at being so close to the monstrous creature that had been uncovered.

"I want you to pass the doctor's request on to Gunny Juniper." Jarvan turned to her and set his jaw. "Go and fetch one of the supply wagons from Victoria Company's quartermaster detachment. even if you have to overload the other wagons to free one up, do it. If needed, we can split the load further with Captain Crownguard's Valor Knights when we meet them for the last fifty kilometers of the march. Send the cart with some tarpaulins and we'll load it up and take it with us to Kalamanda. When you're done with that, render what assistance you can to the gunny, we should be able to hand this for now." Jarvan hardened his gaze slightly as he turned it on the sergeant, showing her that he didn't need any opposition to his orders.

Delancey looked reluctant to abandon her position at the Prince's side, but when Shyvana stepped forward towards the prince, the apprehension in her shoulders and chest seemed to slacken. She nodded and saluted briefly as she turned and started away, pausing to take one last glance at the spider before hustling away, back towards the road.

"So why did a bunch of giant spiders attack a Demacian column like this?" Forsythe grunted. "They obviously didn't need or want the supplies… they've been left littered all over the road."

Jarvan grunted softly in acknowledgement, his eyes still locked on the giant spider monster.

"The cart must have crushed it when it was run off the road." Shyvana said with a frown as she pushed herself up from one knee. She looked around as she moved around the beast before she stooped down again, running her finger around the inside of one of the poorly covered spear-holes in the ground. She moved past the others and then leaned down, looking at the end of one of its long legs. She examined it briefly, the slight ridge that ran up two sides, comparing it to the hole. "But is definitive. This creature was what attacked these men or part of whatever attack occurred here."

"I can't confirm or deny that it cut up these men yet," The doctor said softly, frowning slightly as she looked up at the prince. "But my preliminary observations support this idea."

"Very well..." Jarvan muttered, frowning as he turned to stare out over the field, contemplating what he might do if he found the person responsible for this atrocity. There was a growing ball of ice in his stomach. He had seen a scene this horrific once before.

* * *

A half an hour later, a platoon of soldiers had spread out across the field, picking up parts of dead soldiers and piling them to be burned. Jarvan had been watching the actions silently, staring out over the desolation, anger having settled on his face. Shyvana's presence seemed to be the only thing that had tempered his rage. He had exploded and chewed out a private for splashing him with mud, but when Shyvana had returned to his side, a private has tossed a dismembered thigh at a pile and missed, hitting the prince, and he had only glared at the young soldier. She stood close to him, letting the gentle warmth of her body float over him in a silent but calming gesture. She wanted him to know that even if she couldn't find the right words to ease his temper, she was there if he wanted to talk or if he needed someone to comfort him.

"It's odd..." Balto muttered as he kneeled down, examining a torso as he rolled it over onto its back. He frowned slightly as he examined the snapped remains of the leather strapping that had held a chest plate in position. He gave it a brief tug, but it didn't budge. He sighed, dropping it, turning back to his task at hand. He shuffled through the pockets on the breast of the chest, pulling papers from the pockets and waving another soldier over. "I've got a few more over here."

"Here, Lance Corporal." The soldier trotted over and held out a satchel, holding it open.

"Thanks." Balto muttered, shaking his head.

Jarvan turned and frowned, looking at the soldiers. "What exactly are you doing, Balthosar?"

The soldier stood up, his hands bloody as he paused over a thigh, a hand poised over a pocket that looked to contain something. He snapped the buttons free and shrugged, pulling out the contents of the pocket, flipping through several different items inside. There was a small bound book that he flipped through before finding what he looked for. "We're doing what we can to try and figure out who these men are." Balto muttered with a growl. "No heads means no faces. No faces means no one can identify them." He waved another soldier over, this one carrying a board and a piece of parchment, his quill poised over it.

"Lance Corporal?" There was a Second Lieutenant's rank tabs on the collar of his uniform, just barely showing over the top of his armored chest plate.

"Another name for the list, Lieutenant." Balto said, frowning, squinting at the messy scrawl that darkened the pages of the book. "A private... Halestrom."

"Good job, Lance Corporal." The Second Lieutenant said softly. Another soldier waved at the officer from across the field and the lieutenant muttered a soft curse. "Deposit the soldier's possessions and continue on."

"Yes, sir." Balto said, sighing, running the sleeve of his coat over his mouth, wiping away the sweat. "Fucking hell." He stuffed the small bound book into the satchel and scowled angrily as the soldier with the satchel wandered away.

Jarvan's expression had softened slightly. "Balto."

The soldier rounded on the prince angrily, wondering if the prince was going to snap at him for simply doing his duty. "Yes, _sir?"_ There was anger in his voice, exasperation straining his tone. Shyvana stepped forward at the slightest provocation, stepping in front of the prince, something dangerous flashing as her eyes turned a deep orange, glints of gold and red dancing about menacingly.

"Take a few moments and gather your constitution before you continue." The prince turned as the creaky sound of an approaching wagon grabbed his attention. He started to turn but paused, looking back over his shoulder at Balto. "Don't push yourself. This isn't and should not be an easy process." The lance corporal's grimace softened slightly as he hung his head and nodded.

"Yes sir." He muttered wearily. "Thank you sir." He slumped down into a squat and exhaled heavily, tugging off his helmet and scrubbing his hands over his head as he tried to calm his nerves.

Shyvana watched, understanding the frustrations. She had known the stresses from her time spent wandering the wastes of Valoran with her father. On many occasions she had seen scenes similar to this perpetrated by Kampf to deny her and her father refuge from sympathetic parties. It had gotten so bad that Shyvana and her father had been forced to stay away from any bastions of human society for her father's fear of getting any more innocents killed. She could see the frustrations of not knowing where to turn building on his face. She searched for a comforting word, but she could only watch as he stood up and clapped his cheeks a few times before taking a deep breath and heading out into the field again. She felt sorry for the young man, but could only watch as he wandered deeper into the field away from her.

"Shyvana?" Jarvan called to her.

The dragoness blushed slightly and turned to face him. "My apologies, sir." Shyvana bowed her head, but looked up to see a soft frown on Jarvan's face instead of the stern expression she had expected. "Jarvan?" She could see there was a moment of confusion behind the frown as the prince tried to play it off. "If there is something you would like to ask me, Jarvan..."

Jarvan shook his head. "It's nothing." He turned and headed towards the broken cart as the new one, a group of Demacian soldiers guiding it in, trundled towards the beast and the doctor. Shyvana followed the prince, but she frowned slightly, her eyes following the prince as they moved. _The toll of all of these dead men must be weighing heavily on him. I can see the fear and anger building inside him. Jarvan... It pains me to see you like this._ Shyvana felt the urge to simply wrap her arms around the prince and tell him it was going to be all right, but she knew that it would have to wait until she and the prince had a moment alone, away from the prying eyes of the hundreds of soldiers now working tirelessly around them.

The cart trundled backwards through the mud, guided by a trio of heavy set guardsman in even heavier armor, a fourth guiding the braying horses by their leads. They carried lances on their shoulders as they slogged through the mud, frowns on their faces as they slowly approached the small knot of soldiers who stood around the up-righted, smashed cart.

"Corporal Fellshorn, Private Roshan, Private Velrore, and Private Yelsong reporting, sir." The soldier on the left said, snapping rigidly and saluting the prince. "Sergeant Delancey reported you needed something moved?"

The prince nodded. "I need you to get this beast loaded up and tied down as quickly and as quietly as possible." The prince's expression turned dark. "You are also not to speak to anyone about this under penalty of death, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." The soldiers said with a brief salute as they traded nervous glances.

"If you need any assistance, you may speak to Lieutenant Steelarm or one of my subordinates." Jarvan growled softly. "They have already been briefed on the situation... though you might need more men to move it."

The soldiers looked slightly confused as they nodded and moved forward to where Doctor Brightstorm was busy making notes in a small book, Merrioneth standing over her, keeping an eye out around them. They could see the blue, silver, and barest crimson flashes of soldiers moving about the edges of the field, patrolling the perimeter. Jarvan led the men about the smashed wagon and heard the collective, sharp inhalation of breaths from the men. The horses started to buck, sensing the new found nerves in their handler and he had to fight to control the animals.

"Mother of god..." The corporal whispered, pulling his helmet from his head and running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. "What the fuck is this thing?"

"It's a large arachnid specimen of some sort." Doctor Brightstorm said, smiling, her eyes sparkling as she looked up. "Fascinating, isn't it?"

"That's one word for it." One of the soldiers muttered, his disturbed gaze turning on the doctor for a brief moment.

Jarvan spat the doctor a sour look. "Doctor, these soldiers will help you load the _specimen_ into the wagon and get it secured for the move to Kalamanda. Is there anything else you need?"

The doctor looked about, frowning slightly before shaking her head. "No sir. Thank you, your highness." Elvarran said, offering him a sweet smile. Shyvana scowled slightly, but the prince ignored them both, turning to Heally.

"Have you seen Forsythe?" Jarvan asked, glancing around. The medic glanced about briefly and then shook her head.

"My apologies, sir." Merrioneth said, bowing her head. "I lost track of him trying to keep track of the doctor here." An exasperated look settled on her face. "She is very impulsive, and doesn't appreciate the need for security out here."

"Of course she doesn't." Jarvan said, sighing softly. "Do your best to keep her out of trouble, Merry." Jarvan paused looking around for Forsythe, his frown remaining plastered on his face. "And if you see Forsythe, send him to find me. I need to speak with him."

"Yes, sir." Merrioneth said, saluting.

Jarvan turned, starting to scan the fields for the towheaded corporal when an alarmed shout echoed from behind him. There was an unmistakable crunch of human bone splintering, followed by a piercing, blood-curdling scream of pain. Jarvan spun and started towards the sound immediately, Shyvana right at his side, flames already starting to swirl around her hands. The concern on her face was gone, now replaced with anger and a ferocity that reflected the flames now spilling from her armor. The fire dripped from beneath each small plate in the scale mail that covered her body, the heat next to Jarvan now rising towards an inferno.

The great black beast reared up on its rear six legs, raising its mandibles to the sky as it let out a piercing shriek that sent pains echoing through Jarvan's skull. It faded with a clicking sounds as the beast lashed out with one of its front legs, striking one of the soldiers that had been toiling to load the monster onto the cart. The soldier caught the strike in the side of the chest and it lofted him, sending him flying. He crashed into the mud and rolled, splashing and tumbling to a halt where he lay, unmoving.

Jarvan stood mortified as the beast stood pawing, turning around in circles, its mandibles clicking and snapping angrily. The soldiers around it stood frozen, their voices lost, their boots rooted in place as the gigantic black spider raised itself up. Its movements slowed for only a brief moment as it moved towards one of the soldiers, Corporal Fellshorn. It moved in close, its mandibles clicking softly as it crawled forward, taking a few steps towards the soldier. Jarvan watched as Fellshorn's head rose up as the beast's legs slowly raised around him, the sharp front feet gently brushing along his arms and clicking against the metal plating on his chest. The beast had eight, glimmering, shining red eyes that quivered as they looked around, glancing from thing to thing, scanning everything it could. It started to drop its legs and Fellshorn exhaled in relief, but suddenly, his face went ghost white.

"No!" Jarvan roared in anger as he watched the corporal's body get punctured with the two front claws of the spider beast. Fellshorn was too surprised to scream, though his face looked as if he was locked in a silent scream. He let his head hang back as his sword fell away from his hand. He grabbed at the claws where they had pierced his body, on through his shoulder, the other through his abdomen. The spider turned his body over as if it were looking for something, hesitation in its movements as if something were wrong. The beast finally clicked its mandibles several times as it lowered the corporal down towards his face. Fellshorn's face was pale now, blood running down his body, dripping from his arms and boots onto the ground. The spider turned him by twisting its claws around. One of Fellshorn's arms dangled towards the ground. The spider opened its mandibles and slid the arm in at the shoulder.

Jarvan felt his stomach turn, but he couldn't turn away.

The beast slammed its jaws shut, clipping the man's arm off like it were nothing.

Fellshorn screamed this time, his voice echoing across the field, the sound trailing off as the beast ripped him around again. It lined up on his other arm and clipped it as well, the second arm dropping to the ground and splashing into the mud. Fellshorn had fallen silent as the beast twisted him about. It tried to clip his right leg, but the bone only splintered and cracked. The beast had to open its jaws again, wider, before it snapped down cleaving the leg from it tattered remains of his thigh. The second leg didn't take the second strike, the beast was calculating and efficient, aiming higher, opening its jaw wider before snapping down. It fell away, blood splattering down the beast's jaw. The monster started to lower the soldier down so it could get its mandibles around his neck.

 _The razor's kiss... the headsman's ax..._ Jarvan shivered. _No one should be sentenced to such a death in a place like this!_ He had come close to knowing the embrace of cold steel, many years ago. _I refuse to let another Demacian face that horror!_

Jarvan snapped, wheeling his lance off his shoulder and slamming it down onto the ground. A standard exploded out of his lance, arcing through the air. It started to fall, picking up speed as it crashed back down. It cleaved one of the spider's front legs, catching it at the joint. The beast reared up and yowled in pain, clicking echoing through the scream of pain. Jarvan barreled forward as the monster let the man's torso begin to slide from its legs, but Jarvan dove, catching the body and rolling away, skidding to a stop in the mud, his chest heaving.

"Stay with me!" Jarvan snarled at the body. The beast's movements turned wild and frantic as it spun about, its legs thrashing, mud spraying as it searched for its target. It turned on Jarvan and started to creep forward, the ground shaking under its every step. Jarvan's chest heaved as he groped for his lance to defend himself, but there was only ice, mud and ruined flesh that met his grip as he held the body to his chest. His lance was laying on the ground next to Shyvana.

"Jarvan!" Shyvana screamed as the monster turned on him, finally finding its prey. The spider charged at Jarvan, its remaining front leg raised up and back, ready to impale Jarvan. He threw himself to the side, landing heavily and skidding away. The spider struck the ground and crashed down, trying to smash the ground where Jarvan had just been. Mud and ice rained down around them as Jarvan pulled himself up. The spider turned on him again, but as it started forward, a blast of bright blue energy struck the side of the creature's body. It yowled angrily, but there was only a small darkened splotch where the blast had struck it, no true damage had been done.

"Shit!" Balthosar howled as he cycled the weapon, steam jetting from the chamber. He raised the weapon again and took careful aim before squeezing the trigger. The arc of blue energy leaped forward, striking the spider again on the side of its carapace, but it only howled again, though the hole was slightly larger, almost the size of a fist. An acrid stench begin to fill the air as the spider bucked angrily, yowling and clicking madly. It turned, coming to bear on Balthosar. "Get Jarvan clear, Shyvana!" Balto shouted, firing off a third shot. It missed high. "Fuck! Jonah, now!"

The shuddering of armor plates could be heard as the massive private brought his equally massive shield up in front of him and started to run. He started slow, but the private was quickly picking up speed as he crashed across the field. He was aimed at Balto, though.

The spider charged for the lance corporal. Balto kept his weapon in front of him, tensing up as he let the creature come. He glanced from left to right, his eyes bouncing from Jonah to the spider as both of them bore down on him. He tossed himself aside and flattened himself in the mud as the two collided. Jonah had been careening along at a full sprint when he struck the spider, and it had sent the monster flying, collapsing and rolling through the mud, its legs spasming wildly. Despite the force he had collided with the spider with, the creature must have weighed a huge amount; the private had bounced away and ended up tumbling end over end, losing bits and pieces of his armor as he crashed to a halt. Jonah was slowly pulling himself up to his feet, but he held one arm at an odd angle, the shield it had carried had been ripped free and was jutting out of the mud at an angle halfway between where he had collided with the monster and where he had come to rest.

The spider was moving slower as it go to its feet, turning slowly, its legs tottering and shaking slightly as it looked about for something to lash out at.

Shyvana stamped her foot, steam starting to rise around her as she growled softly, looking up at the beast. Flames dripped from her armor, billowing up from her gauntlets and up her arms, little tendrils of fire seeping free. Her skin was a deep blue as she opened her mouth and let out a mighty roar, the sound terrifying and inhuman. The dragoness hung her head as her chest heaved, her red hair billowing around her. The spider immediately turned on her, its skittering movements freezing in place as it finally settled on her. Shyvana looked up, dark blue scales lining her cheeks, her eyes glowing a molten, angry orange. She raised her hands, the flames growing higher as she started forwards, flames billowing around her. She charged forward as the spider dropped down and leaped at her. Shyvana slipped to the side and spun around its extended claws as it crashed down. Shyvana brought her fist back and slammed it into the side of the creature, drawing her fist back and slamming it down again, following with an almost instantaneous left strike. The spider shivered as it collapsed down, Shyvana backing away as it started flailing its legs. The armor plating on the spider's side had started to collapse inward, a jagged, weeping crack forming along its side, starting from where Balto had put a hole in it with his rifle, ending at the massive dent Shyvana had left with her brutal strikes.

The spider clambered to its feet, struggling to stay standing as it wavered slightly. It clicked angrily and then charged at Shyvana. The dragoness let it come and caught the beast's mandible's in her hands, jerking it up and over her body. The spider started to the flail again, losing its grip upon the ground as Shyvana rolled to her back, and hauled the beast over her, planting a foot on its underside and sent the spider flying as she ripped a mandible free. The beast howled angrily as it crashed down onto the ground, sliding to a stop next to the cart.

Shyvana's chest heaved as she stepped forward, planting a foot on the squirming monster, raising a fist up. Her arm exploded in flames and she prepared to dispatch the beast once and for all.

"Wait!" Doctor Brightstorm started to pull herself to her feet, but her legs fell out from under her. Merrioneth helped her to her feet, the doctor looking both terrified but pleased at the same time. "Do not kill it!"

"You would rather let it kill us then?" Shyvana snarled, her foot resting on the exposed belly of the thrashing monster. "You want it alive, you take it yourself!" Shyvana glared defiantly down at the doctor as the blonde doctor glared back up at her. "Well!? You think you can take this beast down on your own!?"

The doctor's glare faltered. "But think of what we could learn!" The doctor said desperately, still holding onto Heally as her legs quaked beneath her. "This creature is driven by something other than its own intelligence. It must be a part of some sort of hive mind... if we can figure it out..."

"You won't learn anything if you're already dead." Shyvana's voice was an ice cold snarl that froze the doctor's protests in her throat. The beast surged under Shyvana just before it snarled and swatted the dragoness off, striking her hard in the gut. The dragoness crashed into the doctor, and they both crashed to the ground in a heap. Shyvana started to pick herself up, but the doctor cried out as she tried to pull herself free.

"What now?" Shyvana snarled angrily, glaring down at the doctor. "Something else to say, you sniveling coward?"

"N-no… i-it's j-just…" The doctor whimpered as Shyvana slid to her feet more carefully this time. "M-my… wrist…" Shyvana glanced down at it. The doctor held it gingerly in her hand, tears pouring down her face, her wrist twisted about at an inhuman angle.

Shyvana spun away and snarled angrily. "You're weak." She glanced towards the spider as it wavered slightly, struggling to stay on its feet, its legs driving deep holes in the ground with each step it took.

"What the fuck is that thing?" Forsythe skidded to a stop next to Shyvana, his sword and shield held in front of him. He stared up at the giant spider in awe, watching at it fumbled about. Reinforcements had closed in and were trying to corral it with lances, but the monster would howl and charge if anyone came to close. Several men were already being hauled away to be tended to by medics. "I thought the damn thing was dead!?"

"Apparently that detail was withheld." Shyvana snapped sharply. She watched as the beast raised its head to the sky and roared. "I have an idea. Medical Officer." Forsythe leaned over and started lifting the medic from the ice and snow. The woman looked disheveled as she tugged her helmet off and tossed it away. She wiped the mud splattered across her face free and grimaced for a moment. She forced a smile onto her face, but it looked pained and angry. Merrioneth Heally had been knocked back, and she was struggling to stay on her feet now. Forsythe offered her a hand. She looked up at Shyvana who stood over top of the two of them, her fists quivering in anger. She accepted his

"I'm… I'm operational ma'am." Heally said softly, trying to force the smile back onto her face. Shyvana glanced at her, and the attempt to smile slid away.

"Take the doctor to safety. She is not to approach under any circumstances." Shyvana ordered. Merrioneth nodded silently, and started to assist the doctor. "Forsythe, do you still carry a satchel charge?"The corporal nodded absent mindedly. "Give it to me."

"What are you…" Forsythe started to say as he pulled the bag from overt his shoulder.

"I'm going to end this." Shyvana growled softly.

"But how will you…" Forsythe tried to ask, but Shyvana glared at him.

"Make sure the doctor and the medic make it to safety." Shyvana snarled, flames bursting to life, swirling around her fists. Forsythe shrunk back, eyeing the charge tentatively, nervously as the flames licked at the strap.

"I will." Forsythe said, nodding. He turned to ask Shyvana another question, but she was already sprinting away, fire swirling around her legs. She ducked briefly, sweeping down and grabbing Jarvan's lance, throwing it over her shoulder as if it were nothing.

"Crazy fool…" Forsythe muttered. "Come on, let's go doc… we really don't want to be in the blast when it goes off."

"But wait, if she destroys it…" The doctor protested, but Forsythe squeezed the doctor's wrist gently and she squealed in pain. "What was that for you brute!?"

"You would put all of us at risk for your beast." Forsythe growled. "As much as that pisses me off, there is one who you pissed off even more for a different reason."

"Huh?" The doctor looked up at the towheaded corporal. "Wha-…"

"You willingly put Jarvan in danger." Forsythe said firmly. "And Shyvana will never forgive you for that."

* * *

The spider leaped forward, landing on the cart, shattering the wood and sending the team of horses galloping off in terror, the headboard of the cart dragging and bouncing behind them. Wooden shards streaking past the prince as the cart exploded, the spider's foot coming down like a hammer. A quarter of the cart had been lifted and tossed like it was nothing, the heavy wooden chunk arcing through the air, careening towards Jarvan. Jarvan tried to focus his strength and summon his lightshield, but Marcus Du Couteau's words rang in his ears. _Your heart will give out if you rely too much on your lightshield…_

Jarvan faltered. The faintest glimmer of a golden outline shimmered around him before blinking out.

 _No!_ Jarvan watched at the massive chunk of debris descended towards him. He wrapped his arms tightly around the body, trying to protect it, but he knew it was too late. He looked up at the last second and watched, the feeling of helplessness flooding his chest.

"Jarvan!" Shyvana slid in front of the prince, snarling as she brought her arm up and over her shoulder. She struck out with an armored fist, flames cloaking it. The wagon exploded into a shower of embers, sparks, and chucks of wood, pelting Jarvan as a wave of heat washed over the prince.

"Shyvana…" Jarvan murmured, raising a hand in front of his face as the wave of heat passed. Jarvan brushed some soot and small bits of smoldering embers from his shoulder. As Shyvana pressed back against him, forcing him back a step.

"Corral him!" Shyvana snarled at the men angrily. "Use your lances to keep the beast at bay!" Her snarl turned fearsome. "Do NOT get within his striking range!" There was a moment of weakness the men's faces as they considered what was more terrifying, Shyvana or the giant spider.

"M-ma'am!" A soldier stammered. "Form up! Prepare to defend yourselves!"

Shyvana, content the spider was being held at bay, turned on Jarvan. Her face softened only a moment before it turned angry. "What are you doing!?" Shyvana snarled. "You must lead your men, not cower over the death of one man!"

Jarvan blinked softly and looked up at her and then down at the body clutched in his hands. The body was cold, white and very still. Jarvan slowly released the body, his body falling slack for a moment as Shyvana grabbed his collar and shook him.

"Wake up!" Shyvana snarled. "You cannot falter at a time like this! Your men need you!" Shyvana reared a hand back and struck Jarvan across the cheek. A dark red mark colored his cheek, and blood started to trickle down his cheek. He look up at Shyvana, then down at the body, before closing his eyes, their color a dull grey. Shyvana's shoulder's slumped and shook once as the dragoness shook her head. "I need you!"

Jarvan's eyes opened, a cold glimmering blue hue staring back at her. "That hurt, you know." Jarvan growled softly. A smile slid onto Shyvana's face and she hauled him to his feet with a grunt. "I'm sorr-…"

Shyvana pressed a finger to his lips then pushed forward on her tiptoes, kissing the prince tenderly. "You don't need to explain yourself to me." Shyvana said, taking a deep breath. Fire exploded around her, billowing higher than before. "Not now, at least."

"Thank you." Jarvan said, his voice low and menacing. "We must be careful, Shyvana. It's not moving well, but it's strong."

"I know." Shyvana said softly, a thin, vicious smile sliding onto her face. Her eyes glowed a brilliant orange, her skin a pale blue as scales and armored plates grew more distinct against her skin. She watched as Jarvan kneeled down and closed the man's eyes. He pushed himself to his feet. His face was still a little pale and he looked shaky, but he held out his hand. Shyvana handed him his lance and offered him that small, vicious smile. Jarvan tried to smile back at the blue dragoness, her orange eyes gleaming brilliantly, but Jarvan's face fell to his blood drenched hands. He touched his face briefly, drops of blood splattered over his face. He started to try and wipe them away, but they had dried. He closed his eyes and exhaled heavily, the stress echoing in his voice.

Shyvana wrapped an arm around the prince and hugged him tight, forcing him to freeze. Jarvan had been shaking, but he fell still in the dragoness's arms. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"Thank you, love." Jarvan whispered, taking a step back, his hand tightening around the barrel of his lance. He closed his eyes for a moment before exhaling slowly again, as he opened his eyes and looked down at the bag clutched in her hand. "Have a plan?"

"Can you distract it for a few seconds?" Shyvana asked, grinning.

Jarvan nodded as he lowered his lance back over his shoulder and sized the beast up. He watched as it brayed and kicked out its legs at the soldiers, Jarvan watching for a pattern in the movements of its legs. He frowned slightly, starting forward before he noticed the tottering pattern that seemed to dominate the creature's movements. Its body wandered in a vague circle, its legs marking a larger circle around it, trying to keep the monstrous body vaguely steady. Jarvan dropped his shoulder and charged the spider, letting the lance wheel up and over his body, falling nearly horizontal to the ground as he crashed into the spider. Jarvan crashed and tumbled to the ground, but it sent the spider toppling over onto its back. The creature roared angrily, its legs thrashing furiously.

Jarvan rolled, coming up on his knees, bringing his lance up in case the spider recovered faster than he thought, but monster still thrashed wildly. He watched as Shyvana sprinted around the beast, putting distance between the monster and herself, coming up behind the prince. She skidded to a halt, flames billowing in her wake as she waited, watching. Jarvan met her eyes and nodded, the dragoness nodding back. _It's time._ Jarvan, raised his lance up, preparing to slam it down onto the ground. He watched as the spider started to right itself, rolling and tucking its legs underneath its body to clamber to its feet. Jarvan slammed the butt of his lance down onto the ground and watched as the gleaming golden spike arced through the air, landing atop the great beast. The creature's armored hide deflected some of the damage, but Jarvan hadn't been directly on target, the standard had crashed down just to the left of the creature and caught it in the joint, sending one of its legs crashing away, purplish goo dripping from the several joint. "Shyvana, now!"

Shyvana leaped and kicked off of the prince's shoulder, launching herself up and over the reach of the creature's thrashing legs. She landed atop its back and grabbed for something to hold on to, but the carapace was warm and smooth to the touch, her hand slipping. Shyvana snarled as she raised her free hand up, forming a flat palm, the armored, claw like tips of her heavy gauntlet raised, flames billowing from the half-jaw of the dragon's head. Shyvana brought the blow down with such force the spider's body sunk as jagged holes were punched in the armor, finally giving Shyvana a hand hold as the creature turned and flailed and bucked wildly, trying to cast her away. Shyvana snarled as flames exploded from her hands, flowing through the holes in its armored skin, the acrid stench of burnt vegetables filling the air. The spider reared its head and let out a fearsome, pained bellow, the clicking echoing across the field. Soldiers cowered back in fear, but Shyvana had seen her moment to act. She jerked herself up, grabbing the creature's remaining mandible and ripped the monster's mouth open. She shoved the satchel into its mouth and down its throat as she tucked her legs into her chest. It bucked her angrily, and sent Shyvana arcing forward over its head as she kicked off of it. Shyvana snarled as she reared her hand back, fire welling in the palm of her hand.

"Chew on this." Shyvana forced the billowing ball of fire down the monster's throat as she rolled away, twisting through the air. The spider whipped its legs about and just barely managed to catch Shyvana in the side, sending her cannonballing away at an odd angle. Jarvan dove and caught her in his arms as they both hit the ground rolling. "Fall back!"

"Get away!" Jarvan bellowed. He froze, watching as the spider grabbed the lance of a surprised soldier and hauled it close, pulling the Demacian in close. It impaled the soldier and tossed it into the air, ripping it about, sending the soldier, dead, crashing into the crowd of soldiers keeping it at bay. The spider took the moment of confusion and charged wildly towards the opening.

"Slay the beast!" A soldier charged towards the beast, his fear finally breaking. He sprinted forward, alone from his peers, his sword raised above his head. Many of the men looked confused, but as another man raised his weapon above his head, Jarvan snarled, barely given time to recover. The spider looked confused as one man charged towards it, the rest remaining back, but that was not the problem. Their fear turned to a mad dash for survival, tens of men surged forward towards the beast… unaware of the bomb that lay in its belly, only seconds away from exploding.

"No! Fall back!" Jarvan bellowed, but the men's fear had been transformed into visceral forward motion. Jarvan watched helplessly as men surged forward to their impending deaths. "No, NO! I won't let my men be robbed from me again!" Jarvan snarled, pushing himself to his feet, lifting his lance and slamming it into the ground in one smooth motion. It landed just in front of the spider, and Jarvan slapped the trigger on his lance, the barbed tip hooking the standard. Jarvan slapped the trigger again and the weapon tried to rip free from Jarvan's grasp, sending him careening forward towards the beast.

"Jarvan, no!" Shyvana screamed after him, getting knocked from his arms, rolling along the ground. She ended up on her belly, watching as Jarvan threw himself forward. She snarled angry, fire exploding around her, tossing her to her feet from the ferocity of the heat. She felt her fury building, anger and rage boiling in her blood as fire dripped from her fingers. She charged forward after her prince.

Jarvan summoned his Lightshield, pushing it out to encapsulate the massive monster, trapping him inside with the monster. The first few soldiers who had charged ahead of the rest looked on in awe as the golden bubble washed over them, trapping them inside. Jarvan clamped his eyes shut and slapped his hands over his ears as he crashing into the spider, just as a warmth embraced him, encircling him completely.

The bomb exploded.


	6. Chapter 4: Revelation

Delancey watched in horror as the inside of the golden bubble was briefly splattered with a coating of bright purple goo before the inside gleamed a brilliant golden orange, the colors trapped within rolling and bubbling like the surface of the sun for a few long moments. The taut golden surface flexed and writhed angrily as the color turned to swirls of black and deep, brilliant oranges and blacks that glowed like Shyvana's eyes.

The men watched in fear and awe as the colors died, slowly turning into a rolling sphere of black and grey smoke, rimmed and covered with a dull golden glow. The shimmering color grew dim, the blue spheres that danced over the surface faded and dissipated slowly, only the faint gleam and trail of the blue lights left as it faded to nothing. There was a near perfect silence as the men watched apprehensively, waiting for someone, anyone to say something to break the deathly still silence that had settled on the area. The smoke had settled on the ground like a thick, acrid fog, billowing along the cold ice and mud, rolling and concealing the bodies and blood. Some of the thick black smoke listed into the air, but it was picked up by the wind and carried across the fieldas gusts of icy cold swept across the open space. Some men turned to look at the piled bodies, the smoke seemed to serve as a deathly precursor to the fires that would soon begin to black out the sky. A soft murmur rose through the ranks as the remnants of the spider landed on the ground, splattering mud across their boots.

"Move off!" Forsythe shouldered past the men who stood dumbstruck and confused, their weapons raised, frozen where they had just fought a monster. The gaps left by the missing members of the company seemed to widen and stretch, leaving the area feeling far emptier and more hollowed than it should. "Get out of the way!" Forsythe pushed into the opening at the center of the area, Merrioneth emerging behind him, a worried expression on her face.

"Where is the prince?" Merrioneth asked softly, her knuckles going white around the strap to her medic's bag as her eyes surveyed the oddly shaped remnants of the spider. There was a long, drawn out silence that hung over the men as they all peered at the center of the blast, as if they expected the prince to rise from the ashes. There was no movement, just sullen observation as the men stared at the crater in shock.

"What's going on!?" A sharp voice cut through the soft murmurs that floated through the crowd. "Make way, make way!" Sergeant Major Perrywinkle pushed his way through the crowd, a perturbed look on his face as his eyes tracked from Corporal Forsythe down to the remnants of the spider's corpse and back up to Medical Officer Healy. His grey-horned eyebrows twitched slightly, the wrinkles deepening in his face as the grimace stretched the lines on either side of his mouth to a virtual breaking point. He turned towards the panicked corporal, his mouth now an impossibly thin white line. "Forsythe! What the ruddy hell is going on?"

There was a moment of silence from the corporal as he glared down at the center of the crater, trembling with what looked like mounting fury. "That stupid..." Forsythe snarled as his voice trailed off, his fists tightening into balls as the full extent of the damage done to the corpse of the spider beast drifted into sight, free of the settling smoke. The beast was left in a shallow, smoking crater, its armored skin peeled back and cracked apart, almost like a blooming flower, colored lavender with a sickly smelling goo that oozed and dripped slowly. Forsythe turned his head, gritting his teeth, forcing himself to rip his gaze away from the gruesome scene and look at the sergeant major. "Jarvan decided to be a goddamn hero."

"Wait…" The Sergeant Major murmured, the lines easing for a brief moment, his jaw slackening as Forsythe's words washed over him. "Where is the prince?"

Forsythe remained silent, his teeth gritted as he snarled briefly and turned away, taking several forcibly heavy steps before freezing. Healy gestured towards the pile of broken plating and the steam remnants of the foul, purplish goo with a wavering finger, smoke rising lazily from the center of the shallow crater.

"WHAT!?" The Sergeant Major's angry exclamation seemed to jolt the mass of soldiers back into their boots. There was a wave of motion through the crowd as they turned and looked from person to person, their eyes slowly settling on the crater.

 _"Does it still live?"_

 _"It can't be!"_

 _"Where is the prince!?"_

The murmurs grew louder as the men watched steam rise from the goo, their fidgeting and nervous chatter slowly growing.

There was a shift somewhere within the center of the crater. A slight movement of a plate, the grinding of armor and the echoing hiss as a jet of acrid grey smoke shot into the air. A murmur of fear shot through the men. The sergeant major's hand dropped to his saber, and Forsythe spun, drawing his sword, taking two steps forward, planting himself at the edge of the crater, ready for anything. There was a slow wave of the ring of steel passed among the men. Some of their weapons came up, training on the corpse, but others still hung at their sides. They could all see into the hollow shell of the spider left ruined in the blackened crater, waiting, perfect silence descending upon the crowd, not a single soul even breathing.

A large, boulder like lump just off the center of the crater shifted again, rumbling softly, letting off a wave of steam that washed along the ground. It slowly began to unfurl, segments of the rocky surface unfurling and sliding away. Smoke and dust billowing from the surface, a long neck swept out, a mane of thick, reddish hair spilling out around the giant creature as it started to rise over head. Shyvana pushed herself up, unfurling her draconian body from the tight ball she had wrapped herself into, her long serpentine neck stretching high over the other soldiers, her tail sweeping out around her, twitching slightly as it dropped to the ground with a wet _thud_. Her snout was long and narrowed, rows of sharp teeth and fangs gleaming brilliantly even in the dull midday light. Long horns curved back from the top of her head, encased in an armored helm, her leathery blue skin darkened even further with soot. She wavered slightly as she rose to her full height, gingerly spreading out her wings, rumbling softly with a weary mix of pain and relief echoing through the sound as she did. Shyvana slid forward several steps, her wings rustling as she dragged herself up to the edge of the crater. She held a winged arm across her chest as she struggled along, her long tail swaying in a wide arc with every step till she stopped and lowered something to the ground from her wing. Her movements were slow and deliberate, as if she were trying to be careful about something despite being dazed as she slid her wing away, finally using it to push herself up to her full height. She took a step back, looking down towards the heavy mass she had just lowered to the ground. She bent her neck and leaned in, nudging the prince's body with her snout. Jarvan lay at her feet as she again nudged his shoulder with the tip of her snout. The prince stirred and then grunted in pain. He sat up and shook his head, looking around and grimacing, one hand pressed to the side of his head. He used the other to lever himself into a sitting position, but he immediately hunched over, wrapping a hand over his side.

"They live!" A soldier shouted. A cheer went up as the prince grunted again, pulling himself upwards. Jarvan faltered slightly as he got to both feet and dropped down to one knee, grimacing, shaking his head slowly as if to cast off the dizziness. Shyvana bumped her snout gently against him, nuzzling him and rumbling softly. The prince wrapped a hand around the base of one of Shyvana's horns and she hauled him up to his feet. He wavered slightly as he looked about wildly, his hands running down his chest, as if he was surprised. He winced slightly as his hand passed over his chest.

Forsythe pushed forward, wearing a massive smile on his face. "Jarvan, you crazy bastard!" He boomed, grinning fiercely. "You're damn lucky to be alive!" He stepped into the ring, past all the other soldiers, smiling up at Shyvana before cuffing the prince on both shoulders.

Jarvan winced as he looked to Forsythe and frowned, his brow creasing slightly. "What?" Jarvan shouted back at the corporal.

Forsythe blinked twice and then let his head fall back, booming a loud laugh. Jarvan grimaced at the man, turning his head slightly left and then right he tried to start forward, but he nearly toppled over. He reached out and put a hand on Shyvana's snout, bracing himself, his head hanging slightly. A small trickle of blood ran down either side of his neck, and realization slid onto Forsythe's face. He pointed to his ears in turn, talking in an exaggerated motion, his hands gesturing wildly. "Your. Ear. Drums. Have. Burst." Forsythe wore a grin as Jarvan glowered at him. He looked up at Shyvana, undaunted by the dragon's massive glowing orange eyes, her fangs each as long as his hand. "How about you, Shyvana? You all right?" He asked as if he wasn't talking to a Dragon who looked as if she could swallow him in a matter of bites.

" _I... will be... fine."_ Shyvana rumbled in a low bass roar. She sunk her head down and nuzzled Jarvan, nearly knocking the prince over before she sank back. Fire began to pour from her body and her armor began to glow brilliantly, glowing nearly white hot. Soldiers raised hands to shield their face and eyes, some trying to watch, but the front row sunk back against the waves of heat that poured off of the dragoness. She began to sink down from towering above all the others to barely reaching the prince's shoulder. A mane of messy red hair fell down her back, a loose braid entrapped in an armored tail clanking against her armored plating as she dropped down to her feet. She looked up at Jarvan and offered him a thin smile before she teetered on her feet and dropped where she stood. Jarvan went to catch her but he collapsed as well, dropping to his knees, sinking down to the ground with Shyvana in his arms, held tight against his body.

"Shyvana?!" Jarvan barked, worriedly.

"Shit." Forsythe muttered softly, the smile fading as he glanced around. He noticed that Merrioneth was close, but hadn't approached the prince. "Merry, come on. You're up." Forsythe waved her forward as he turned back to the prince. A moment passed before he realized she hadn't moved. Forsythe frowned slightly, following her gaze. It was locked on Shyvana. "Oh come off it." He muttered softly in surprise. "Really?" There was a moment where he looked as if he couldn't believe her actions. A thing grin flickered mischievously at the corners of his mouth. "I promise she won't bite. She's rather subdued right now, anyway. See how she's in the prince's arms? She's like a kitten now." There was a yelp as Forsythe jumped, patting his backside, a thin trail of smoke drifting upwards from a darkened spot. Shyvana had raised a finger and pointed it towards him, and steam issued from her finger as the flame extinguished.

"Who's a kitten?" Shyvana opened one eye. It was still glowing orange.

Forsythe took a step backwards, his hands clamping over his backside. A smile slid over Shyvana's face as she closed her eyes again and sighed softly. A murmur of laughter passed through the group, leaving Forsythe looking rueful.

"It's not that…" Heally started to mutter, blushing slightly.

Shyvana's smile remained, though as she looked over the medic. Magenta eyes glowed back at her, though their sheen was slightly dimmer than normal. "You don't need to try and hide it." Shyvana's voice paused for a moment. "Everyone is afraid of what I really am." Merrioneth saw the smile begin to falter on Shyvana's face, the corners twitching, and the medic sighed and took a step forward. She smiled down at Shyvana bravely, as if she expected the dragoness to lash out and gobble her up suddenly. Shyvana's smile warmed a fraction as she closed her eyes again. Merrioneth exhaled slowly, beginning to step forward.

"What happened here?" Delancey asked, frowning slightly, appearing next to Heally.

Merrineth yelped and jumped. A wave of shock passed through the crowd of gathered soldiers, as if they had all been on edge. Murmurs and chatter passed through the group, again breaking them from their seemingly transfixed state. Merrioneth spun and glared at Delancey, who smiled innocently back at her. "Damn it! Sarge, you scared the hell out of me!"

"Sorry." Delancey said unabashedly, grinning proudly.

"I've never seen a dragon before." Merrioneth murmured softly, forcing herself to take a deep breath as if to calm her racing heart. There was a moment of hesitation in Merrioneth's step as she moved forward a few inches, as if she still expected Shyvana to suddenly lash out at her. She looked to Forsythe. "Are you sure?"

"Do you want some proof?" Shyvana muttered softly, turning her head towards the medic, her pale magenta eyes fluttering to look up at her. She offered the medic a soft smile and laid her hands in her lap, clasping one of Jarvan's hand in both of hers. She blinked once and then closed her eyes, letting her head rest against Jarvan as she chuckled softly. "I just realized I don't really have any proof to offer. You'll just have to trust me."

Merrioneth looked surprised, but a small smile slid onto her face. She shook her head as she dropped her bag down next to the dragoness. "I have you to thank for saving us from that beast. The least I can do is make sure you're healthy."

Shyvana nodded her head, finally sinking back slightly into Jarvan arms fully. It was as if the last of the tension had drained from her muscles. "Thank you."

Merrioneth nodded and smiled weakly, looking to the prince. "Let me check her over quickly and we can lay her down for a bit. Here." Merrioneth said with a sense of finality about her voice, pushing forward and dropping down to one knee next to the prince and the dragoness. There was a smile on her face, despite the relatively hesitant look that was in her eyes. "Let me take a look at her." Jarvan looked confused but looked from Shyvana to the medic. Merrioneth quickly pressed a pair of fingers into Shyvana's neck and set about giving the dragoness a quick check over. She glanced up at Jarvan as she worked. "Your highness, do you have any injuries of your own?" She continued checking over the dragoness as she spoke, starting to pull one of Shyvana's shoulder plates off. She looked up at the prince when he didn't respond, and the smile disappeared from her face. Jarvan looked as if he hadn't heard her at all. She raised a hand and waved it at the prince, grabbing his attention away from the dragoness.

"What!?" He barked loudly, his voice carrying over the field. Some soldiers turned and looked with confusion, but Merry's smile had returned. She leaned forward and gestured for the prince to turn his head to the side. It took some time to get the message across, but in the end, Jarvan did turn his head. Merrioneth looked at his ears for a moment and then nodded to herself, digging through her bag. She pulled out a small crystal phial and handed it to the prince. Jarvan took the phial filled with a deep crimson liquid and examined it tentatively, but Merrioneth went through the motion of tossing it back and swallowing the content. The prince finally nodded despite the wary look on his face, snapped the top off, and downed it. It was only a few moments later that a dim green haze seemed to shimmer around his body.

"Can you hear me now?" Forsythe asked, cuffing the prince on the shoulder. Jarvan blinked once and then nodded.

"Yeah." He muttered, shaking his head, trying to banish the haze that had settled over him. He grimaced slightly and exhaled heavily. "Merry, how is Shyvana?"

The medic smiled up at him. "She's only tired, your highness." She started to put away her instruments and pulled a canteen from her belt, handing it to the prince. "Get her to drink this and we'll move her to our wagon. She can rest there until we depart or she feels up to it. I need to make sure your ribs sets properly."

"I'm fine." Shyvana stammered weakly, trying to sit up.

"No, you're not." Merrioneth said, pushing Shyvana back down, using only her index finger against the dragoness's forehead to push her back down. Shyvana tried to fight back, but she ended up sighing softly, steam escaping her nose, blushing slightly at her own meek attempts. Merrioneth giggled softly and then waved at two soldiers who were still standing in the circle, watching with a mix of awe and confusion on their faces. She turned back to her bag, but when the men didn't move, she frowned slightly. She sighed and then tugged the folding stretcher off her back and tossed it at two of the men. They looked surprised when it hit them in the stomach and clattered to the ground. "Unfold it and get over here."

The men did as instructed and then dropped the stretcher down to the ground and let Jarvan lay the dragoness down on it. Shyvana had accepted the bottle, but wasn't drinking any of it as she opposed laying down. She leaned up against Jarvan, somewhere halfway between laying down and sitting propped against his lap. "Drink, drink." Merrioneth urged. "You'll feel better."

Shyvana frowned slightly at the medic, but Merrioneth wore a stern expression, raising her nose slightly. "I'll be fine, you don't need to—ow!" Merrioneth had grabbed Shyvana's nose, clamping it closed and lifting it slightly. "Wah ah yoo do-OOBHOOINHG!" Shyvana choked and coughed as Merrioneth shoved the bottle into her mouth, up ending it. Some water dribbled down the dragoness's face and chest, sizzling on the still-warm armor. Shyvana coughed and pulled the bottle free, spluttering. She raised it and started to toss it away, but she saw Jarvan's face. A small smile shone behind the tired, cool blue eyes that had looked sunken or angry for so long. Shyvana exhaled slowly and wiped her lips clean. She turned the bottle up on end briefly, downing some of the water sheepishly.

Merrioneth let out an explosive breath, as if she had been worried Shyvana would lash out for her brazen move with the water bottle. Her nerves seemed to dissolve into a fit of giggling that ended in a sweet smile as she patted Shyvana's arm. "We'll get you sorted, right as rain, yes?"

Shyvana blushed and then raised the bottle up, downing the last of the water. "It's alright." Shyvana murmured, pushing herself up to her knees. Her chest was heaving when she got there, but she waved the medic off. Shyvana looked determined to walk of her own volition. Jarvan smiled softly at her determination as he pushed himself up to his feet and helped pull her up behind him, lacing an arm around her waist to keep her steady. A soldier approached the prince and handed the heavy lance back to its owner. The prince levered the lance up over his shoulder, but the motion was slower and less graceful than normal, and Forsythe had to duck to avoid getting hit. The prince frowned slightly at this. His entire body was sore and he winced slightly, but Forsythe grinned and Jarvan kept his mouth shut, less the corporal had some other jest to mock him with. Shyvana looked up at him and wrapped a hand around his body, trying to hold the prince up. She started forward with the prince, breathing heavily with every step, doing her best to help the prince. He was wincing with every step but he was doing everything he could to help Shyvana up to the cart that still sat on the road. Forsythe followed after them with Merrioneth bringing up the rear as the ring of soldiers parted to let them pass.

The sergeant major glanced around as the prince moved past, glaring at all the soldiers who still were left milling about, talking softly among themselves. He scanned the crowd for one in particular and then grunted at one of the soldiers when he located the one he wanted. "LT, get your men back to work. We'll take care of things from here."

"Yes, sir." A soldier with the single, horizontal golden bar of a second Lieutenant responded. The name _Steelarm_ had been stenciled onto his chest. Turning to two of his men, he cuffed their shoulders, knocking the shock out of them. "Nylan, Finel, get moving. Grab your men and get back to work." His face was hard.

"But sir, what about…" Steelarm held up a hand, forestalling his obviously coming question about the soldiers who had been killed by the spider.

The sergeant major nodded at the men and sighed softly. "I'll see to it their bodies are disposed of properly."

Steelarm nodded tersely. "Yes, sir." He growled. "Thank you." He turned, and waved the group of men he had been working with to follow him as he headed back into the field. The two soldiers he had spoken with headed in other directions, each with half of the remaining soldier following in their wake. There was a general din of murmurs that was flowing through the soldiers now. Some whispered about the monster they had fought, others spoke of the monster that had protected the prince. Some spoke in low tones about the prince's brash actions and how foolish he had been, others praised his bravery for saving them and spoke in awe of the dragoness. The soldiers returned to gathering the last of the dismembered body parts, leaving the remnants of the spider behind.

"Forsythe." Jarvan ordered softly, moving slowly so Shyvana could pick her steps. He waited till the man was walking beside him, matching their pace. "Take Delancey and collect the men and regroup at the wagon. I want to see the doctor. Send Proudmast and June if you can find them." There was a moment of cold menace in his voice. Shyvana looked up at him as if she could feel the very shift in his voice from his chest.

Forsythe's smile disappeared, a thin line replacing it. He nodded curtly and saluted informally. "Yes, sir."

Merrioneth hurried ahead of Jarvan and Shyvana as they struggled towards the wagon. She cleared the end of the overloaded wagon free and then pulled a blanket out, laying it out flat. Jarvan helped Shyvana to the cart and then deposited her on the tailgate of the wagon, helping get her up on the blanket. Merrioneth forced Shyvana to lay down, giving her an accusing glare when Shyvana started to resist. He protests didn't last long. Jarvan's subordinates slowly trickled in, separating from the other soldiers who were continuing their assigned duties. C platoon was piling the last of the bodies, a couple of soldiers each making notes of scraps of heavy parchment, recording numbers and types of body parts as they were heaped into the piles. Two fat satchels had been filled with what few personal effects could be recovered from the remains. Jarvan watched as an officer moved between the groups, recording the names of soldiers from what could be deciphered from the recovered remains. Jarvan watched silently as they finished their work, and he nodded to each man and woman as they wandered in.

Balthosar and Argyle were the first to arrive as they ambled forwards. Balthosar's gun looked muddy, as if he had dropped it. There was an odd look to the weapon, as if the lines weren't quite straight, the way they should have been. He frowned down at the weapon before nodding to the prince and propping the weapon against the wagon. He sighed softly and then waved Arglye towards him. There was quite chatter between them as Arglye finally dropped the broken portion on his heavy shield, a small sad expression quivering on his lower lip. Balthosar noticed and took a brief moment to exhale heavily before putting on a smile, despite how forced it appeared. They talked for a short time more before Argyle finally nodded, dropped his weapons and sat down on the ground, his legs crossed in front of him. His arm still hung at an odd angle across his lap. Balthosar patted his other shoulder and then waved to Merrioneth as she crested the edge of the road. She glanced over, nodded, and raised a finger to indicate he needed to wait a moment as Jesarah stepped up to her.

The amber haired woman and the dark haired, pale skinned medic spoke to each other for a few moments before they nodded to each other. Jesarah moved past Jarvan around the edge of the wagon, drew a similar bag to Merrioneth's from under a tarpaulin, and then hustled around to where Balto and Argyle were. She set about talking to them, trying to convince them to let her repair the damage done to Argyle's arm.

Jarvan turned his head slightly and watched as Marsellus stood with his back against the wagon, toeing the ice, trying to stay out of the way. Jarvan wasn't sure what was going through his mind, but he could only assume that part of it was shame for not being able to assist. Jarvan felt bad for the kid, he knew that feeling well from when he was a child, but the prince didn't know what he could do for the soldier. He frowned after the soldier, but sighed softly and glanced back towards his men.

"So, prince, how do you feel?" Merrioneth's voice snapped the prince's attention away from his men. He started slightly and then winced. Merrioneth noticed. "It still looks like you've got a broken rib or two."

"It feels like it." Jarvan murmured slightly, gritting his teeth.

"Sorry." Shyvana muttered sheepishly. "I think that may have been my fault." She blushed slightly as she looked down at her lap. "I kinda grabbed you a bit too hard when I was trying to protect you from the flames."

"Better a few broken rips than being a pile of cinders." Jarvan said, patting her scale-mail covered thigh gently. Shyvana offered him a small smile.

"I concur." Merrioneth said, wearing her usual smile. "Broken bones are easy to mend. Death, however, is not so easy to fix."

Jarvan felt something shift in the bottom of his stomach, a memory rushing back to meet him, images of the blonde haired, other-worldly being flooding his mind, her massive wings predominant among them. _Probably not something I should mention._ Jarvan shut it out of his mind for the moment. Merrioneth had busied herself with his broken ribs and was now examining him, raising his arms, twisting them about, prodding him over and over, and all the while watching his expressions for reactions. Jarvan stiffened slightly as she prodded him in the chest on the right side, but it wasn't the pain that had caused ice to drip through his veins, his expression hardening, and the hair on his neck standing on end.

The king had a deathly grave expression as he approached the group that stood around the end of the wagon, a painful silence settling over them. Behind the king, his personal guard, Xin Zhao, seneschal of Demacia, stood with his spear at his side, raised at attention. The seneschal nodded his head at the dragoness and then bowed shallowly to the prince before straightening up. A brigadier general named Duchress from DemSec, a colonel Jarvan recognized from the scouting battalions named Jerome if he remembered correctly, a lieutenant who was looking slightly out of his depths, and then Vorscham and Juniper all followed behind the king, each standing slightly back from the serious faced seneschal and his spear. The king came to a halt, his jaw set as he scanned the rather miserable looking group.

"I take it you've handled the situation?" The king said stiffly, examining the injured men before turning his gaze towards the field to examine the pyres as torches were lit and prayers were beginning to be said.

Jarvan straightened up slightly, a frown settling on his face. His father's eyes had changed, turning a dark and stormy blue. Jarvan followed the king's gaze as he looked from soldier to soldier in the prince's small band of aides, guards, and staff. He wondered if there would be anger in his eyes when he finally looked upon his unfortunate victim, but there was no malcontent in his eyes as he inspected each soldier in turn.

Jesarah was busy bandaging and splinting Argyle's arm in place before giving him something to heal it. While it would heal properly even without splinting or casting, the process would be much faster and much less painful if splinted properly first. Balthosar was sitting next to his large friend, his rifle now tucked over his chest, his chin sitting against the stock that sat against one shoulder, the butt sitting between his legs. He looked rattled, worn down by what he had seen.

"I managed." Jarvan grunted softly. "It didn't go nearly as planned, but I was about to address that issue."

"Very well." The king said impassably, before glancing towards Vorscham. He looked about to see if there was going to be any interruptions, and satisfied he had the floor, he cleared his throat. Everyone looked to the king, expectantly. "Captain, has the rest of your company deployed?"

Vorscham nodded sternly. "Yes sir. I've deployed A platoon to the east and B platoon to the west. Both has roving patrols to cover the distance between their positions and the rest of the perimeter." He paused, and before the king could ask about the last platoon, he continued. "D Platoon is being held in reserve to reinforce and respond with two of their squads. The remaining two squads are roving around the perimeter at distance, providing early warning. I have them on strict orders not to engage, only to observe and report so we can reposition and crush any foe with appropriate force should need arise."

There was a momentary look of surprise on the king's face. "And should a foe arise?" He prompted.

"The defending unit splits in two. One half rendezvous with the closest roving unit, circles and prepares to launch a pincer attack. With D Platoons reinforcements arriving from a central location, the reinforced defending unit serves as an anvil as the other unit slams the hammer down."

The king nodded slightly. "Good." The word of praise did not seem to reach Vorscham's ears. "Jerome, I assume you can pass word along to your scouts to work with this plan?"

The Scout colonel nodded, whistled once like a hawk, and raised his hand above his head. He made a fist, circled a finger around in a wide circle above his head and then pumped his fist once. A tree on the distant wood line, opposite the field across the road shook slightly. Jarvan would have missed it had he not known where to look. It was likely a messenger going to spread the orders. "It will be done, your highness."

"Good." The king said again, nodding deeper this time. "General."

The heavy set man started slightly, his jowls quivering as he looked up, stroking his grey handlebar mustache. He straightened up slightly. He was heavy looking but most of it looked to be muscle, almost like a gorilla, rather than a man getting on in his years. "Your highness?" he asked, still trying to hide his surprise, his bushy grey eyebrows slowly starting to sink towards their normal perch over brown eyes.

"Speak." The king ordered. "I can see the thoughts on your face."

The general turned slightly red along the nose, but he cleared his throat. "Of course, sire." He glanced around, his eyes settling on the prince for a brief moment before they flickered away. "This sort of situation would normally fall under the Demacian Security Brigade's jurisdiction. We have the experience and the equipment to properly hand this sort of thing. If you would allow me to…"

"Question, general." The king said, his voice slightly colder than before.

"S-sir?" The man stammered, taken aback. He stood up straighter again, his eyebrows working in confusion atop his brow. "Please, ask whatever you wish."

"Do you have any leads or ideas to what happened here?" The king asked coolly.

"Well, n-no, but if you allow me to send for my investigators…" The general looked slightly annoyed.

"Jarvan." The king's summons were terse, but the prince pushed himself up and he nodded.

"Father?" The prince kept his voice as cool as possible, but there was a slight sense of unease that he couldn't seem to banish.

"Perhaps you have some sort of idea?" The king said, just as coolly as before.

"We're still counting how many body parts are missing, but we've determined what's caused the injuries and all of the damage to the bodies." Jarvan growled, a hint of anger starting to seep into his voice. He paused, reigning his anger in with a short breath before continuing. "We were force to destroy our primary lead as to what happened to the men when we were forced to defend ourselves from what seems most easily described as a giant spider." He paused again. He could feel his father's gaze shift from him out into the field where the last few wafts of steam rose from the corpse of the monster. "However, it is likely the creature was responsible for the attacks, though It is my theory that were many more, and this one simply had the misfortune of getting caught when a wagon overturned."

"Do you have any idea what they were doing?" The king asked.

"There are a number of missing body parts, and they have been stripped of… well… they've all been beheaded." Jarvan grimaced slightly, feeling his stomach flutter, anger coursing through his veins. Shyvana put a hand on his shoulder and the prince forced himself to calm again. "Why exactly they attacked and who lead this attack have yet to be seen. The only major lead we had was forcibly put down after a series of unfortunate events unfolded within my command" Jarvan bowed his head to his father. "My apologies, your highness. I will not let it happen again."

There was a neutral expression on the king's face as he watched the prince. Jarvan glared back, slightly perturbed, but he didn't let the expression deepen any. He only looked away when he heard Delancey and Forsythe's voices approaching the group. However, their tone wasn't the normal jovial ones that so often followed them. Their voices were serious and quite. Jarvan felt an ominous sensation in his stomach as his skin crawled. He turned and watched as they approached. Between them hung a bedraggled and muddy Doctor Elvarran Brightstorm. She looked cross, but there was little she could do against Forsythe's massive hand wrapped around her upper arm. The corporal and the sergeant fell silent as they approached. He deposited her at the feet of the king and prince. Jarvan noticed a soldier dressed in the light gear of a messenger courier had followed the forward. His horse's reigns were clasped in his hands, and he kept casting nervous, twitchy glances around at all the soldiers.

"Do you have anything you wish to say?" The king said before the prince could start. The king has seen the anger starting on his face. The doctor looked angry for a brief moment before her gaze turned from the king to the prince and the dragoness behind him.

"I can't believe you killed it!" Doctor Brightstorm exclaimed angrily as she picked herself up from the floor, anger brewing in her blue eyes. She turned on the dragoness, her glare furious. Shyvana merely glared back, anger in her eyes as heat began to radiate from the Dragoness's body, challenging the woman to so much as speak a word against her. The Doctor's qualm with the dragoness seemed to die in her throat, and she swallowed nervously before turning towards the prince. She opened her mouth to voice her protests, but froze, her eyes glued to the prince as he stared down at the dead soldiers.

"June." Jarvan growled, his voice soft but scarily cold.

"Sir?" Alicia tried to hide the nerves in her voice, but it cracked slightly as she swallow. "Yes, sir?"

"What was the final count on the dead bodies in the field?" Jarvan asked, turning away. The gunnery sergeant flipped through several pages of parchment before finding the number she was looking for.

"We recovered eighty-seven arms, fifty two torso, and ninety-six incomplete legs." Alicia said, reading off the list she had created with the help of Lieutenant Steelarm's platoon sergeant. The parchment quivered in her hand. "We can only surmised there were two platoons and a few others attached… or we're missing nearly an entire platoons worth of bodies."

"Forsythe, how many did we lose from Victoria company?"

"Four, sir." Forsythe answered coldly, looking down at the group.

Jarvan turned to the doctor, looking down at her, menace in his eyes. "Doctor, you now have the blood of four young Demacian's on your hands." Her face was pale now, and she shivered like a leaf in the wind. "I hope you can make that corpse worth those lives."

Jesarah stepped forward, her expression cross as she glared up at the prince. "You're being too harsh on her! She was only doing what you told her! She knew that taking it live would glean the most information… just like you wanted!"

Jarvan rounded on Jesarah. "I want to preserve every Demacian life I can. I refuse to spend their lives wisely… I refuse to lose any that I can save, even if it makes it harder for me. If the doctor can't understand that, I will send her back to Demacia when she can go back to sitting in the academy doing whatever she wants, where she can prove that she won't be a menace to my men and the Demacian Army. Unless you want to be removed from the unit and sent back, I would _shut your fucking mouth._ "

Perfect silence filled the air between them, Jesarah looking shocked as she glanced from the quaking Elvarran, held on her feet by Forsythe. Several long moments followed as no one dare make a sound.

"Your highness…" The voice belonged to Delancey. She glanced from the king to the prince and then to Forsythe. The corporal set his jaw and nodded. Delancey gulped audibly and gestured to the panic stricken courier, his hands still clamped like a vice around his horse's reigns. "Well, this might be better if…"

"Sergeant, please." The king said, his jaw set now, as if he were bracing for the worst. "If it is urgent…"

"Yes sir." Delancey said, taking a deep breath. "This courier arrived from Kalamanda. The convoy seen here was not a supply convoy headed to the city as we initially thought." She paused, exhaling slowly. "It was a refugee convoy, fifteen-hundred strong headed to Demacia."

"F-fifteen _hundred_?" Marsellus stood glaring, open mouthed, the disbelief plastered across his face. "Surely that number…" His voice trialed of as he looked out over the field of blood, a shiver running up and down his spine.

The silence was deafening. "You mean…" June murmured softly, her eyes growing wide.

"We didn't find a single trace…" Balto muttered from the edge of the group. "Fifteen-hundred… missing. How…"

"Enough." The king's voice echoed sharply, squashing the worried looks and the mounting conversation. "You, courier. I must speak with you, now." He pointed away from the group, and stomped away. Some of his aides followed, others, many of them visibly shaken, did not.

"I can't even imagine…" Jesarah muttered. "How did they manage that?"

"I… I don't know." Delaney shrugged, shaking her head curtly.

"But-…" Another voice started to ask, but Delancey stomped a foot.

"I said I don't know!" She bellowed, angrily. Silence followed for a brief moment. "I don't know anything else. I can't answer any questions." Delancey turned away slightly, but froze, looking up at Jarvan.

The prince's face was contorted in anger. His fists were quivering and a blood vessel could be seen pumping in his temple. The men all seemed to sink back away. Jarvan stalked away, moving through the field, headed in the direction of where Steelarm's platoon was now laying its dead to rest at the edge of the forest.

Shyvana said nothing, but pulled herself to her feet, and followed after him. She refused to let her charge escape her protection again, but she stopped, looking out towards Jarvan just as she reached the edge of the field.

Jarvan's feet had not carried him all the way across. He'd slowed to a halt, his head hanging, his shoulder quivering as he clenched his fist.

"Not again... not like this..." Jarvan growled, shaking his head, turning away from the body. His shoulders heaved as he fought back against the pain that screwed up his face. He froze, his eyes locked upon the ground. Shyvana looked out at te prince, and her eyes fell upon what sat at his feet. Fellshorn's armored helmet sat at Jarvan's feet, blood still dripping from inside, casting ripples into a puddle beneath it. Jarvan snarled as he started across the field again, swaying slightly, but the prince took only a few steps. Shyvana watched unsure if she should follow, but the prince came to a stop next to the jagged remains of the wagon where they sat jutting from the ground at an odd angle. Jarvan's shoulders went rigid as he balled his fists up, each quivering in fury.

The emotion drained from his face as he hung his head, a moment of exhaustion sliding into his body. Jarvan leaned his head against the remains of the wagon. He reared a fist back and slammed it down into the wood of the wagon."Damnit!" He snarled angrily the last soldier was lowered into the shallow grave, a white sheet wrapped around the blood splattered torso. He punched the wood again. "Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!" Jarvan punched the wood till his fist was bloody, crimson dripping from his gauntlet.

Shyvana watched in horror, her heart aching, as Jarvan's chest heaved. She tried to find the words to comfort the prince. Any words at all that may offer him solace, but where she sought for comfort, she could find none that began to touch the prince's pain.

She started forward, a hand starting to rise to offer him even the comfort of her presence, but a heavy hand fell upon her shoulder. She looked back and saw King Jarvan III looking past her at the prince. His eyes were a placid, clear-sky blue as he watched his son, and though his eyes looked brilliant, his face showed the weariness and the pain he felt, the wrinkles around his eyes hardening as he sighed softly.

"Leave him for now." The king said, his voice hard, his brow creased deeply. "When he needs your council and your comfort, which he will as every king does, he will come to you." The words were spoken softly, his voice hesitant but firm, as if he were admitting to something for which he felt guilt. They were words spoken from experience. "However, he must overcome his fear of losing men. War may be upon our doorstep soon... and Jarvan, my son, will need every ounce of strength he can when that time arrives."

Shyvana wanted to be angry at the king for stopping her, but she knew that he was right. Shyvana could only watch as Jarvan continued to smash his fist, the blood now staining the wood.


	7. Chapter 5: Kalamanda

The morning air was brisk and cool, a dense mist having settled low over the road, obscuring it in places where the snow and ice still remained. It was thickest in the shadows of trees, where the ice and snow was still thick on the ground. The sky was grey and cool, emotionless and vague, offering nothing to improve the attitudes of the soldiers as they marched along. The clatters of horse hooves striking rock and pounding upon the packed dirt echoed through the long column of troops. The rhythmic clank and the steady reverberations of hundreds of men marching in unison drowned out the thoughts and the miserable attitude that had settled over companies. Even the appearance of Garen's company of Valor Knights had done little to bolster the spirits of the men. His horse mounted knights bore heir regal standards and a proud, imperious nature that seemed the emanate from each member of the company. Some men has even seemed dour and annoyed at the knight's obnoxiously proud attitudes.

Shyvana glanced around, her eyes focusing on the tree line and following it, looking through the darkened pines into the mysterious depths that seemed to come right up to the edge of the road. She begin a regular check of all of the different men and women surrounding them, her eyes darting from person to person, inspecting their hands, their eyes, their general body language. She frowned slightly. This was one of her most challenging responsibilities that had come with the position of being the prince's bodyguard. Shyvana had not been raised among human society and as such, some of the eccentricities of human body language had been lost on her in the lessons given to her by Juniper and Vorscham. She frowned slightly. June had ended up giving her lessons with parallels to animal behavior, and while it had made sense to Shyvana for the most part, some of it was still lost on her. She glanced around for anyone who looked overly tense or uncomfortable amid their current company. Anyone fidgety or nervous could also be something to worry about, like a mouse who was sharing a burrow with a snake, but Shyvana saw nothing. Only tired slumped shoulders and the pain of men who had seen something they could not banish from their minds.

Conversely, the knights looked apprehensive as the red plumes above each officer's head twitched as they tried to quell the discomfort and the aggravating chatter that kept cropping up between the knights. Some held quiet conversations regarding the ragged appearance of Victoria company, who had ended up being nearly a day late to the rendezvous for the last two days of the march to Kalamanda. The result was a glum separation between the two units, and the brooding mannerisms that swirled around the prince didn't help. Most of Garen's men regarded the prince with frowns and unease, though much of it aimed towards his choice of companion; Shyvana did not leave his side for almost anything. Some of them regarded her with interest, others regarded her with fear, but most of them simply kept their distance, choosing to skirt her with a healthy distance and a wary eye.

Shyvana's gaze turned on the two new riders who had joined the prince's procession of staff and assistants. Garen and his subordinate, Lieutenant Tunis, were the only ones who seemed willing to approach the dragoness and the prince, though Shyvana had noticed the Demacian Captain casting her cautious glances. The knight captain was shorter than Jarvan by nearly a hand's width, but while Jarvan was broad-shouldered, Garen was decidedly burly. Shyvana had heard the term 'barrel-chested' tossed around among the soldiers during her time training with Victoria company, but she had never seen someone who fit the term so well. He was immensely broad with massive shoulders, exemplified by the even larger shoulder guards he wore and the long blade that hung across his back that looked as much for crushing as for cutting. He carried no shield or buckler, an oddity considering most of his men carried lances, rather his armor looked heavy and far thicker than standard Demacian fare, only outshone by that of the newcomer Argyle and his wall-like plating that left him looking like a miniature walking fortress. Shyvana regarded the captain with respect; she had dueled him many months previous, and though she had won, many believed it was mostly due to the fact that she had managed to surprise him with her transformation into a dragon. He didn't seem to carry any ill will though, only a cautious regard for her and a habit keeping his distance from her.

Garen's subordinate was a different story, though. Where the Captain seemed to have a grudging respect but tentative fear of the dragoness from their duel, Lieutenant Tunis seemed to regard her with unabashed interest. She could feel his gaze always looking in her direction, watching her, sneaking glances, though Shyvana couldn't be sure. She had caught him several times staring at her, but he had always glanced away when she had noticed. She frowned slightly though, it was not as if he was prepared to strike her down if she posed the slightest threat. The dragoness couldn't tell what interest the man held with her, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he wanted something from her. Shyvana regarded the dark skinned lieutenant with trepidation, though, he had yet to say anything and she could only judge him based off of his nature. He had a slick, almost predatory smile and dark, intelligent eyes that she found both hard to meet and difficult to look away from. Shyvana would have called him handsome, with his high cheekbones and trim form, but the man only ever watched her. She couldn't decide whether the attention he paid her was flattering or worrying, though. He was always hiding the fact that he was watching and while Shyvana had caught him sneaking glances down he armored form numerous times, he never seemed abashed or nervous. Shyvana had tried to ignore it, but as a part of her duties to the prince she had to keep an eye on everyone who approached him, and Tunis only seemed to have eyes for her.

Shyvana looked back to the prince and her heart sank. Jarvan had yet to return to his normal reassuring, headstrong nature. His face betrayed little to no emotion, his eyes cast down, lost in thought as he stared at the neck of his horse. He seemed intent to solve some mystery or problem he did not have all the solutions to yet, and Shyvana could see that this was bothering him immensely. She had tried speaking with him several times, but he had just swept her concern aside with falsely warm words of comfort. She had easily recognized the words for what they were though: she had used them in the past. Shyvana heard a horse's hooves sharpen its strikes on the ground as it increased in speed before she'd heard the crack of reins snapping. She turned her head and watched as Garen moved forward in his position in the column, trotting forward to ride parallel to Shyvana and the prince beside her. Shyvana frowned slightly, she had seen Tunis's eyes following her and it had sent a shiver down her spine.

"Are you well, my prince?" Garen asked, frowning slightly as he rode next to the prince, leaning forward in his saddle to see around Shyvana. His horse had armor plating across its chest and neck that clanked as it slowed pace to match Shyvana and Jarvan. Decorative banners rode on its flank, indicating the station of the rider. Jarvan's horse was taller and slightly more heavily armored, wearing mail, leather and armored plates that left the beast of an animal with a regal appearance that fit that of the prince. Wagons trundled along behind and ahead of them, Garen's company now leading the column. Jarvan's face remained impassible despite the question, his mouth forming an imperceptibly thin grimace. Garen's frown darkened slightly as he looked from the prince to Shyvana and then towards the king, whose procession rode ahead of them.

When his heed when unanswered, Garen looked around, a frown forming on his face. He looked about for someone to present some sort of answer, but there was only silence in the column. He finally turned to Shyvana, his jaw set. "What happened?" Garen growled under his breath. Shyvana rode between them, and as Garen frowned, her gaze fell slightly, looking down to the reigns of her horse.

Shyvana glanced over at him, regarding his clear blue eyes for a few moments before her eyes returned to watching the tree line on either side of the road. She saw Tunis looking at her and she fought off the urge to blush when he smiled at her. _Just_ w _hat does he want?_ She shook the unease off and turned back to the captain, straightening up in her saddle. "What has the king told you thus far?" Shyvana asked softly. She cast Jarvan a wary look as if she expected to be reprimanded, but his face remained hard, glaring straight ahead, still lost in thought.

"Not much." Garen said, shaking his head. His eyes trained on something distant, at the head of the column. "He seemed hesitant to say too much, but indicated that Jarvan would fill me in on the remainder of journey. But… well, I have yet to glean anything…"

Shyvana sighed softly. "I'll tell you what I know," Her eyes flickered towards the prince."But I feel like we're only facing more questions than answers right now."

"Very well." Garen said stiffly. It was obvious he was uncomfortable talking with the dragoness rather than the prince, though it was difficult to tell what was causing him more trouble, the dragoness herself or the unease that lingered around the column of soldiers that trailed behind him. He paused, twisting about in his seat to look back over the soldiers of Victoria company.

"Our journey had been proceeding as would be expected." Shyvana said tersely. Her fists tightened around her reigns slightly as she paused, exhaling slowly. "We were making good time; the road was fairly barren. We'd only encountered a handful of traveling bands of refugees, a few merchants wagons and the like. Nothing to worry about. However, we were unprepared for what we would come across."

"What exactly _did_ you find?" Garen muttered, looking from the dragoness to the prince and then back to the road. "No one has been willing to tell me."

"We found the remainder of nearly two and a half platoons of Demacian Soldiers." Shyvana said coldly. Her gaze turned on the knight, and the question she could see forming on his lips died. "Each body had been ripped apart. Torsos, legs and arms were scattered across an entire field like litter cast around by the wind. The blood was everywhere."

"What about…" Garen started to ask, but the icy glare Shyvana gave him froze his question in his throat.

"Heads?" Shyvana finished the question for him. "We found none. We couldn't get an accurate count on the number of bodies, either. We can only guess that it was two platoons with a detachment of soldiers… or we're missing far more bodies than we thought."

"My word…" Garen said softly, his eyes growing wide. "How many soldiers were missing?"

Shyvana chuckled coldly, her guts twisting about as she did. "We won't know until we get to Kalamanda and ask the commander who assigned the unit to the column. But that's not even the worst part."

Garen looked mortified, even Tunis had managed to break his rapt attention on Shyvana to produce a horrified look. For several moments there were looks of searching confusion on their faces as they wracked their minds to find something he could think of that was worse than what Shyvana had already told him. "Worse than a butchered company of soldiers?" Garen muttered, shaking his head. "Why would someone do such a thing..."

"What could be worse than that, my lady?" Tunis asked. His voice was a slow, velvety smooth drawl that took Shyvana by surprise. He paused, making sure to give Shyvana his full, rapt attention. "Ma'am, surely you can't possibly know of something more than a company of slaughtered men."

Shyvana blushed slightly at his words. _My lady? Ma'am? Is he treating me like royalty because of Jarvan?_ Shyvana shook her head, trying to rid the color that was warming her cheeks. She forced herself to look away from Tunis, turning to the captain, exhaling slowly, regaining her nerve. She thought of what she had to say and she felt steely resolve pour into her, washing away the unease. "The column these men were assigned to protect consisted of _fifteen hundred_ refugees from the Kalamanda region." Shyvana said coldly. "We found nothing but Demacian body parts and the shattered remains of wagons. The supplies were scattered and cast aside, so we can only assume that whoever took them would have no use for them."

"Fifteen hundred…" Garen murmured in awe, shaking his head slightly, as if he didn't believe the number. "But, if it's as many as you say…" He paused, obviously trying to think of something that was eluding him. "The standard detachment for a column that long was likely an entire company if not two. Have you compared unit patches and numbers to figure out if there was more than one company involved?"

"No." Shyvana said, growling softly. "We only figured out the refugees were missing when a courier arrived from Kalamanda with the news. He did not have any further details than that."

"Damnit." Garen snapped angrily, an armored fist bouncing off his thigh. "But surely you know what units were involved…"

"I told you I don't know!" Shyvana snarled, her anger surging for a moment. The horses all seemed to sense the anger and all the riders had to struggle to control them for several long moments. When the horses had all been brought back under control, Shyvana sighed heavily, casting Garen a cold look. "You sound as if you don't care about the fact that so many civilians went missing." There was disgust in her voice and Garen glared coldly back at her.

"I do care that so many have gone missing." Garen said softly, his voice full of menace. "However, as a Demacian officer, my concern rests with those missing soldiers. It is my duty to serve Demacia and her people above all others."

"That's cold." Shyvana hissed angrily.

"Do not take my priorities as a lack of concern." Garen growled back. "A… _creature_ such as yourself wouldn't understand the convictions of a Demacian."

"And why wouldn't I?" Shyvana snapped back, coldly. "What makes me any less of a Demacian than you?"

"Capitan…" Tunis dragged the word out into three distinct syllables in his slow drawl. "Perhaps you should…"

"Stow your silver tongue, Tunis." Garen growled, shooting the lieutenant a cold look. Tunis shot the captain a poisonous look but sat up straighter in his saddle and clamped his mouth shut.

"Sir." Tunis said through clenched teeth. He cast an apologetic look at Shyvana, but she was too busy glaring at the Captain to even notice.

"The dragon's blood that flows through your veins is what makes you far from Demacian, _girl_." Garen said tersely. "You weren't raised here. You have no family to care for. You have no brothers or sisters to worry about, no sons or daughters to have to think about. My men and I do. That affects their strength and minds. If I can't tell them what happened to their families, what can I do?" There was cold silence as Shyvana and Garen simply glared at each other. Shyvana dared not step down from a challenge, but she didn't have an answer. Garen, knowing he had the upper hand, pushed harder. "If I have no answers for my men, fear and confusion spreads, and without their complete trust and confidence, what do I have left when we have to fight? Nothing. Do not confuse my concern with the safety and wellbeing of my men coming first with a lack of concern for those who are missing. I-…"

"Enough!" Jarvan snarled. He was glaring at them both.

"Jarvan, I-…" Shyvana murmured in surprise.

"You've won your argument, Garen." Jarvan growled softly. "You made your point. You need not drive the point home any further."

"Yes, my lord." Garen said tersely. "Come, Tunis." He snapped the reins of his horse and charged forward along the edge of the column, headed towards the front where one of his platoon leaders was leading the column. Tunis nodded his head to Shyvana before charging off after his captain. There was a cold silence left in his wake.

"Jarvan… I…" Shyvana could not find the words to excuse herself. Garen's words still rung hotly in her ears. _You have no family to worry about_. There was an ache in her chest now, like an old wound that had been reopened. _I miss my father…_

"Garen's words were harsh, but he did speak with the opinion of many Demacians behind him." Jarvan said more softly than before. Shyvana looked up at him with pain in her heart, and she could feel the burn of tears forming in her eyes. "Most Demacians hold little regard for the refugees. They see them as leeches looking to suck the benefits and rewards granted to those true Demacians who have earned it with little regard to our laws and our property. It is unfortunate, but Garen's views are growing more and more common. Many would rather put their own people first and toss the scraps to the refugees."

Shyvana blinked the tears from her eyes. "What would you do, my prince?" Shyvana asked softly. The prince turned to her for a moment, and she was taken aback by what she saw. Gone was the anger and frustration that had laced his expression earlier. It had been replaced with tired eyes that looked far older than she knew the prince to be, and a soft expression that seemed to exemplify the lines in the prince's face. He looked old and tired, like he had been worn out by it all.

Jarvan sighed softly. "It is impossible to make everyone happy." His voice was soft but there was a note of frustration hidden within. "But it is my station to serve the people of Demacia first and foremost, and that is my duty as prince." There was a moment of silence. "But do not think that I do not care for the refugees, either. If I could, I would try to make everyone happy, but doing so also means making everyone unhappy to some extent. Demacia does not have unlimited resources though. We can support the refugees for now, yes, but for how long? The food stores in the capital are already running low from the harshness of the winter, which was far colder and snowy than anyone thought it would be. If we over stretch ourselves right now trying to care for all of the refugees, we will run ourselves dry before we've even reached the planting season. And with the buildup of troops and the strain of marshaling the Demacian army to strength, that puts an even larger strain on the economy." Jarvan sighed heavily, shaking his head. "And now we have to deal with the threat of anywhere from a missing platoon to a missing company of our own men. That will bring plenty of issues of its own, and the missing refugees… there will be unrest within the refugees in Demacia, and if the word gets out among those still in Kalamanda, they might think it safer to take their chances remaining in their homes. Trying to wage a war around civilians will only make things more difficult for us."

Shyvana was beginning to see the scope of problems that the prince faced and as she looked up towards the king where he spoke in low tones with his advisors, she felt her respect for him grow. She turned back to the prince. "How will that make it more difficult for us?" Shyvana asked softly, keeping her voice low so it did not travel. Jarvan glanced over at her, his expression neutral. "I mean… will it not cause just as much trouble for everyone else?"

Jarvan laughed coldly. "You severely over estimate the compassion of our Noxian counterparts." There was cold contempt in his voice as he sneered. "Noxians do not care for what happens to anyone else but themselves. To the Noxian Military, the Kalamandan civilians would be little more than another obstacle they had to cut down and climb over." There was bitterness in Jarvan's voice. "To every Demacian, it is our responsibility to protect those that are weaker than us. Others would use that against us given the chance. That's why this is such an issue. With the growing rift between the Demacian Populace and the refugees it is becoming harder and harder to manage both, and that will only grow more difficult with each passing day."

Shyvana frowned slightly. "How so?" Jarvan glanced over at her and offered her a small smile, which she tried to return as warmly as possible.

"Policing refugees has been a problem faced by many nations." Jarvan said, shaking his head, his smile fleeting. "Compassion is a human emotion known to all those who dwell outside Noxus… most Noxians would turn in their grandmother for a cookie if they could." Shyvana giggled slightly at this, and Jarvan's smile returned for a few moments, offsetting the tired look in his eyes. "However, the demand of supporting a population and a portion of another population all together can be a strain that can stretch that compassion." Jarvan frowned slightly. "Stop me if I stop making sense." Shyvana nodded to him, and smiled so he'd continue. "A nation has several things to consider with both its supply and demand. A nation can produce significantly more supply than it needs and benefit from this by trading away what it has in excess for what it needs or cannot produce on its own. With this supply comes a steady demand for labor, transport and such. This labor is performed by the population, and they earn what they need to live by in the form of gold and wages. Following me so far?" Shyvana nodded and Jarvan smiled thinly. "Good. Now, what do you think will happen if you add significantly more people to that nation?"

Shyvana frowned slightly. "There won't be enough work? But if the nation is producing excess, they should have plenty to share right?" She paused, thinking. "Well, at least for a little while, right?"

Jarvan nodded. "Very good. Without enough work, part of the population will be forced to live off of what they've saved up, and for some, this isn't much. So they become desperate for food or work. This desperation can show in different ways, but rarely is it good." Jarvan's face fell slightly, frustration hardening the lines in his expression as he grimaced. "If there isn't enough work and if food is tight… Rioting and unrest can erupt among those with very little. Theft, extortion and other crimes begin to skyrocket. When those who can't support themselves or their families are faced with this problem, they grow desperate. If they grow desperate enough, they turn to crime and violence. At first amongst themselves, and later amongst those who they are seeking refuge among."

"But why not just give them food?" Shyvana frowned again. "You said the nation was producing significantly more supply, right? Why not use that?"

Jarvan's smile grew slightly. "A good suggestion." He said, nodding his head thoughtfully. "But remember what I said about that extra supply."

Shyvana's face fell slightly. "It gets traded away for what the nation needs or cannot produce." Shyvana said, echoing Jarvan's words. He nodded.

"Exactly. So now you're faced with another problem." He sighed softly. "You can lessen your export and trade, and give away what you can to support those who cannot supply for themselves. This is the compassion I spoke of. But this compassion comes at a price." He paused for a second. Shyvana looked up at the prince and could see a mix of anger and frustration dwelling in his eyes, despite his attempts to keep his face calm. "The companies who either give away their product are losing money. While compassion can salve this economic wound for a while, it will often drain a nation's funds and compassion before the problem is able to be solved. That is why you see such a cynical approach to refugees among many who are forced to consider all the different aspects that can be brought by it." Jarvan sighed softly. "Some people view it as a simple problem with a simple answer: help them. Other see it as a simple loss of profit that might not ever be recovered. As a leader, you often see these two things in direct conflict… you can help someone and keep the people happy… but you drain the resources of others. You simply can't keep everyone happy, and at the end of the day, they all come back and blame the ones who made the decisions." Jarvan's voice trailed off.

"In this case, the King." Shyvana said softly.

Jarvan sighed but nodded. "We're managing to spread the blow of all the refugees we've been trying to support with help from the Piltovans and some help from the Ionians too, but the Ionians are facing their own problems right now." Jarvan's face hardened into a thin line. "Piltover is one of our biggest supporters, and while they have offered all the support they can, they still rely fairly heavily on Demacian and Ionian imports for their foodstuffs. With the occupation of Ionian up until recently, Demacia had been making up the difference because of Noxain forces hiking the prices up on Ionian imports behind the scenes and that, combined with the harsh winter has left the Demacian stores dangerously low, is the problem." He shook his head. "If we lower our supply to the Piltovans much further, we'll have to face that political fallout and that brings a whole host of new problems." Jarvan sighed, tiredly.

"I had no idea it was so complicated." Shyvana said, struggling to sort out all of what Jarvan had said. While she had understood all of the words and ideas, she was struggling to process all of it at the same time as a single larger concept.

"There is one good thing, however." Jarvan said. Shyvana looked up, surprised, but stopped short of smiling when she saw the fact that Jarvan was still frowning. "Well…" He sighed. "It's… problematic."

"Please go on." Shyvana said, gesturing for him to continue.

"You don't find all this talk of economics and politics boring?" Jarvan asked, surprise clear on his face.

Shyvana shook her head, smiling. "It's confusing, but I find it fascinating at the same time. I had no idea that human society was so problematic."

Jarvan laughed aloud, and many of the others in the column looked in his direction. Shyvana blushed slightly, but was happy to see Jarvan was no longer brooding. "You pretty much summed up society in one word: problematic." He chuckled again. Shyvana grinned at him as the prince shook his head. His smile faded slightly, and he glanced down at the neck of his horse. "With the possibility of war facing us, Demacia has begun recalling and marshaling its troops. Normally this would leave the nation in a problematic situation. While certain important stations exempt a soldier from having to serve, say, if he's a farmer or a manufacturer of clothing, much of the labor and workers are soldiers. When they're recalled to active duty, there is a large gap created by the missing workers."

"Why not use the refugees to fill that gap?" Shyvana asked.

"Very good." Jarvan said, grinning and nodding. "You've figured out what it took the Demacian High Council weeks of deliberation to come to in a matter of minutes." Shyvana glowed, smiling. "But while this is a seemingly perfect solution to the problem, you have to consider the long term, as well. What happens when the war does not start or when it ends? Suddenly you have workers returning home to their jobs being taken by refugees. That means you have a huge problem to deal with later."

"Can't they refugees just return to their original homes at that point?" Shyvana asked frowning.

"Ideally, yes." Jarvan said, frowning. "But what if they've been destroyed in the fighting? What if the refugees do not want to move again? Now you have too many workers and too little work and you either have to forcibly remove a group, or the original owners and residents have to suffer and share." He sighed and shrugged. "It's a problem that no one has really ever found a perfect solution to. We're making do while we can, but father is already preparing for the fallout when it arrives."

"I see." Shyvana murmured softly. It was her turn to look lost in thought. She continued pondering possible solutions for what to do with the refugees, but she was struggling to come up with an easy solution. It seemed every solution created another series of problems and with each one, as she tried to lay out all the issues, she'd lose track of some of the branching issues as she tried to deal with them. She felt slightly frustrated as she continued thinking about it.

Shyvana lost track of time as she continued pondering the problem, only vaguely noticing when they stopped for lunch at a river so the horses could rest, water and graze. It dominated her thoughts even as they continued their journey as the land turned from forest flatlands to hilly fields, and then the gentle rise up towards the mountains of the Great Divide. The road soon began to wind around the hills, twisting and turning towards a long wide valley that dominated the pass that lead across the great divide. It wasn't long until the column had started the final ascent along a long rise skirting the base of the massive mountain that dominated the landscape. They were headed up into a pass that would open into the valley.

"Shyvana." Hearing her name spoken managed to shake the dragoness from her thoughts and she looked around for who had summoned her. Jarvan was looking over at her, a slightly entertained look on his face. "Are you still thinking about what we were speaking about earlier?"

The dragoness nodded, frowning slightly. "I don't see how you can do it. I can barely keep track of one idea and all of the little problems it entails before I try to move on to the next. It's maddening trying to keep everything straight…"

Jarvan chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You're trying to solve a problem that takes my father an entire council of advisors to work through. It won't be a problem you can simply think through either. Scholars have written hundreds if not thousands of scrolls of parchment on this dilemma, and many of them still debate the best way to solve this sort of problem. You've spent an entire day dwelling on it. You don't need to worry about it so much."

Shyvana frowned at first, but she exhaled slowly, nodded and returned the prince's smile. "I'll try not to let it bother me too much." A few minutes passed in silence as Shyvana tried to put the issue out of her mind. However, the king's words from before kept ringing in her mind. _When he needs your council and your comfort, which he will as every king does, he will come to you._ Shyvana closed her eyes for a moment and exhaled heavily. _If I can't offer him council, what good will I be?_

"Shyvana."

The dragoness jumped slightly and looked back to the prince, struggling to hide the surprise on her face. "Y-yes?" She said softly.

"I just…" Jarvan's voice trailed off for a moment as he looked down at the decorated mane of his horse, frowning slightly. "I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for talking to me and not casting me with doubt and misgivings despite my shortcomings. Just… thank you for being there for me." He reached out, extending his hand towards her, and Shyvana slid her hand into his, giving it a squeeze.

The column crested the top of the hill, starting the slow descent down into the valley below. Jarvan enjoyed the brief moment of looking down over the entirety of the Kalamanda Valley basin before he slowly descended down over the windswept crest of the mountain pass. Jarvan glanced to Shyvana, and felt his heart skip a beat. Her face was framed against the sky as the sun broke through the clouds, framing her with a golden glow for a brief few moments. Her red hair glowed with a fiery brilliance, her pale skin gleaming in the waning light. Her magenta eyes sparkled with glints of gold and orange, and when she noticed the prince staring at her, she glanced over and gave him a broad smile. Jarvan felt his cheeks burn as he looked over Shyvana, her hair forming a wreath of fire around her head. Shyvana's cheeks paled slightly as they passed through the mountain pass, the distant sun disappeared behind a distant mountain across the valley.

"Welcome back to where it all began." Jarvan murmured softly. He raised a hand up and pointed to his right, towards a small 'v' forming against the darkening sky. A small dark rise formed to the left of the 'v', like a small chimney. "That's the watchtower of Mogron Pass where we met…" Jarvan voice trailed off as they looked down over the sprawling village below them.

At the center of the sprawling cityscape was the village square, colorful bits of fabric flapping brilliantly on the cold wind that swept through the ranks. Buildings spiraled out of the center of the town, wide thoroughfares cutting through the curves. However, what Shyvana remembered as a bustling town was left cold, grey and lifeless. The colorful building fronts were muted and dusty, leaving the city looking far darker and more miserable than either Jarvan or Shyvana remembered it. The town looked barren with only grey armored and black armored soldiers clanking to and fro through the city streets, patrolling their respective sides of the city. There was a gap along the center of the city that sprawled across the city square. They could just barely make out the dark lines that separated the two sides of the town, a thin no man's land running between then. Where there had once been fields and forest, two massive camps had built up on either side of the valley, looking down towards the town, blue and gold flags fluttering and snapping over the closest, crimson and grey colors bristling across the side of the valley opposite them. Smaller camps were spread out around the edge of the city, but the Demacian and Noxian camps dominated the entire landscape.

"Welcome back to Kalamanda."


	8. Chapter 6: Basecamp

The Demacian camp was oddly tidy looking as Jarvan rode through atop his horse. He followed the king and his staff, Shyvana at his side as they wound through the camp. Fires already burned brightly, scaring away the darkness that was beginning to settle over the valley. The sky was a violent, bloody red that glowed brilliantly above the distant mountains. Soldiers that had been huddled around the fires got to their feet and slid forward to the edge of the main pathway that wound through the encampment. Jarvan watched as their faces lit up, colored brightly by the flames flickering around them.

Garen's company of Valor Knights had split off, headed to a new section of the encampment close to the front lines where they had been given tents and equipment to bed down with for the evening. Battalion chow kitchens had been set up all throughout the bivouac, and Victoria company had separated from the column as well. Victoria Company, guided by Tunis, had been deployed around the command structure, taking up positions around the King's quarters and the command post. They were given tents and company equipment that would keep them in position and rotate out guards at all hours to protect the king, the prince and their staffs.

"This way." Garen growled over the sound of horse hooves and the murmurs of soldiers as he turned his horse one last time, guiding him around the last turn of the winding path through the many tents and campfires. Jarvan trailed behind the king and his staff, Shyvana at his side as the other members of his staff followed behind them. Doctor Brightstorm and Jesarah and their wagon brought up the rear as they finally emerged on a large circle that had been formed in the tents. As they entered into the circle, Jarvan felt a different set of eyes begin to train on him. These eyes were different than the others. The eyes before had been younger, inspired and awestruck. Many had probably never seen the king so close before, and with Jarvan's return only recently, many had likely only heard the rumors and the murmurs passing through the troops, some of them were likely enthralled to be seeing the prince in the flesh. Jarvan had heard the rumors even among his men. ' _The prince having returned is only a rumor.' 'He died. His return is just a story.'_ Many of the rumors were fairly ludicrous, but Jarvan could only laugh at some of the stories that made their way to their desk.

He slide off his horse and looked around.

At the center of the clearing was a massive tent that had been set low in the ground. Light poured out of the wide entrance, a ramp descending down towards the warm light. Demacian soldiers were posted along both sides of the ramp, lances raised and held at arms. Jarvan could see beyond the flaps inside of the tent. Officers and soldiers moved about within, working around tables spread with maps and grids, hundreds of rolls of parchments all spread out across the rooms within. The flaps of the door slid shut again, obscuring Jarvan view, but he had seen enough to tell him what the test was used for. _The command center._

Jarvan's eyes turned to the other tent structures that had been laid into the ground in a semi permanent way. There were a series of other large tent structures, one of which Jarvan could see smoke rising from behind, the scent of food wafting from within. _The dining hall._ The third of the large tents had the flaps hanging open, soldiers coming and going freely. Jarvan frowned slightly, trying to figure out what the structure was for, but as he watched, he noticed that officers seemed to be coming and going, most of them fixing their uniforms as they emerged. _That must be the officer's barracks._ He looked to the last of the large tents and frowned, unsure of what it was. No soldiers came and went, only a pair of guards standing sentinel at the entrance. There were a series of other, smaller tents, but Jarvan couldn't tell what they were.

"Captain Crownguard." The king's voice cut through Jarvan's thoughts, dragging the prince back to the task at hand.

"Yes, your highness?" Garen said firmly, turning to look at the king.

"Perhaps you could bring us up to speed on your operations here?" He glanced around. "At least a quick rundown of our surroundings before we are able to fully acclimate ourselves to our new settings?"

"Of course, your highness." Garen said gesturing towards the large central tent. "This is the command center. It is the lifeblood of our operations here, the epicenter of the Demacian presence in Kalamanda. From within all intelligence, knowledge, troop deployments and communications flow." He turned to the mess tent, gesturing to it in turn. "Mess hall, courtesy of the king's finest. There are staff on call at all hours, serving the finest whenever you want, whenever you need. Any staff needing sustenance at odd hours due to patrols can find it here." He turned towards the one large tent that Jarvan had been unable to identify. "This is the king's quarters. There is an antechamber for receiving guests and visitors, a study, sleeping quarters, and other facilities, including quarters for your personal guards. The prince's quarters are right next door." Garen gestured briefly to one of the smaller tents right next door to the King's tent. Garen turned to the prince, his jaw set. Jarvan met his gaze and noticed when the captain's eyes flickered towards the dragoness. Shyvana didn't notice, however, she was busy taking in the bustling surroundings as soldiers moved to and fro, like some massive living beast. She was in awe of all of the activity that flowed and surged around them. Stretched out in every direction tens of thousands of soldiers moved about. Some were just preparing for bed, others were only just waking, preparing for guard duty.

Garen gestured towards the last of the large tents. "Next is the staff and officer's barracks. All of your staff can find quarter there while you stay here. Other facilities include a stable for your horses, an armory, showers and latrines, and a field hospital." He had gestured to a series of smaller tents spread throughout the circle, but for the last one, he gestured towards a long, low tent that was connected to a series of other tents. Unlike the rest of the other tents, which flew blue and gold triangular flags from their poles, this network of tents flew red and white flags. They were solid white fields decorated with simple solid red lines running down the center, ending approximately halfway down the flag. Garen turned to the doctor and her assistant, both of which were still looking fairly subdued. "Doctor Brightstorm, you have had an office and a private operating suite prepared for you in the field hospital, and if you need, you can find bunks in the barracks."

"Thank you." Jesarah said for the doctor, who only shot an annoyed glare at the prince. "We'll need some help to maneuver some of our materials. Can you spare a few strong backs?"

"Of course." Garen said, tersely, frowning slightly as he looked at the doctor, her arms crossed over her chest, looking uncomfortable. He turned and glanced about before catching sight of a group of soldiers milling about one of the camp fires. He whistled sharply. "Garroth, assist the good doctor, please."

"Sir." The soldier saluted and nodded, approaching the gathered formation of troops and officers new to the encampment command post.

"Garroth and his men are part of the guard posted here." Garen said, speaking to Jesarah now, though he was still giving the appearance of talking to the doctor. "They can help your with anything you need, ma'am."

"Thanks." Jesarah said, nodding. Jarvan caught her nudge the doctor with an elbow, and watched as the doctor gave Garen a curt nod of the head.

"Additionally, if you so desire, there are still a few pubs and taverns open within the town, as well as a number of civilians who have yet to flee." Garen said, shrugging at the curious look from some of the men. "Most remaining civvies are merchants that sell to one side or the other, sometimes both, and most of them are making a fairly tidy profit. The Mayor has asked that we not hassle them too much, however, for their safety as well as our own, we have been urging them to leave the city."

"Where can a thirsty warrior get himself a drink?" A nameless voice asked from behind. Jarvan couldn't be sure, but he thought it sounded like Balto.

"Try the Taverns in town." Garen said a thin smile decorating his stern face. The corner of his mouth twitched just barely upwards when he watched Jarvan roll his eyes. "Some still have flowing taps."

"Thanks!" The voice barked, and a thin murmur of laughter passed through the crowd.

"Any questions?" Garen said, looking about. He nodded satisfactorily and then whistled sharply again, this time to a formation of soldiers who had been waiting. "These men will take your horses and answer any questions you might have." Garen looked to the king who nodded appreciatively.

"Very good, Captain." The king said softly, glancing about. "No doubt there will soon be visitors coming to call." He turned, looking from his staff to the prince to the prince's staff. His eyes lingered on the dragoness for several seconds before turning back to the prince. "Jarvan, I suggest you take this time to acquaint yourself with your quarters quickly. I want you at my side when we have to begin dealing with those who come to call. You know the region far better than I, and I would like your expertise at my disposal. Will half an hour be enough to get you and your people settled?"

"Of course, father." The prince said, saluting proudly. "I shall meet you in the command tent then."

"Very good." The king turned to look to the massive tent that was his quarters and then looked back to the command center. "Master Zhao, I assume you can handle my staff for now?" He waited till he received a sharp nod and a shallow bow from the Seneschal before nodding his own head satisfactorily. "Very good. Captain Crownguard, perhaps you can bring me up to date on our troop and resource deployments in the mean time?"

"Of course, your highness." Garen said, saluting and then gesturing to the command center. This way, please, sir." The king nodded and strode after him, down the ramp into the command center. Jarvan watched the two of them go before turning to his own staff. He could already hear the Seneschal issuing orders to members of the kings staff. Most of them were directed to staff barracks to deposit their belongings before reporting to their respective positions. Guardsmen mingled throughout the crowd, taking horses from the many riders and leading them away towards the makeshift stable.

Jarvan looked around and was pleased to see most of his staff was still waiting for his word. The doctor and Jesarah had already headed off, leading their wagons, one laden with the remains of the spider, swaddled in tarpaulins, the other wagon laden with medical supplies and materials for the command post. The sergeant major turned to face the prince and then nodded. Jarvan felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. _That explains why they're all still here._

"Sir." The sergeant major saluted and then stepped back, falling in beside Forsythe.

"Thank you, sergeant major." Jarvan said tersely, nodding at the noncom. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Kalamanda. For those of you who aren't up to speed, there is a sizable Noxian Garrison across town, so keep your wits about you if you move out of the encampment if you go on leave. I don't need you starting an international incident under my command. If you do, well… I can't guarantee your safety. If we have to turn you over to the Noxians to prevent a full scale war from breaking out, I'll make sure to write your closest living relatives to tell them of your brave sacrifice to preserve the peace, rather than how you managed to piss off an entire Noxian army trying to get laid or drunk." There was a general murmur of laughter, but Jarvan could tell that most of them got that he was only half joking. The prince's smile faded slightly as he looked around, exhaling slowly. "You men and women not only represent Demacia, but your also represent me, and thusly my father, the king. I expect the very best from each of you. The eyes of the world are upon us, and I plan on leaving my mark here in Kalamanda. Those of you who are ready to help me discover what happened to all of those refugees and our slain comrades are welcome to find a bunk in staff barracks. Those of you who are not up to the task are welcome to serve with Captain Vorscham's Victoria company."

Marsellus laughed aloud, though his voice slowly died out when he realized no one else was laughing. He glanced about, his dark cheeks burning darker as he realized everyone was now staring at him with confused and in some cased annoyed looks. Marsellus looked to the prince who wore a stern expression. He turned his eyes to the ground as Delancey sighed and shook her head. "Apologies, sir."

"Perhaps you'd like to be the first to join the Captain's ranks, Marcy?" Jarvan gestured to the officer who was now striding into camp. Marsellus's head came up as he looked over at the just arriving officer. Vorscham looked slightly irritated, Lieutenant Tunis at his side looking as bored as ever, one of Vorscham's platoon leaders following in his wake with Juniper bringing up the rear. "I know he'll be looking for replacements to fill our losses. I think even you could fill a post like that. Unless you think I'm still joking?"

"No, sir." Marsellus muttered softly.

"Good." Jarvan grunted, looking out over the rest of his men."If any of you are planning on taking this duty lightly, I suggest you rethink your priorities, because I am intent of finding our missing men and avenging those who were slain. If any of you do not wish to join in my endeavors, I suggest you step forward now so I can have you reassigned." He raised his chin to look over his men, his glare piercing and cold. Jarvan tried to make it as fear educing and stern as his father, but he couldn't tell if the effect was as he wanted. However, as he waited, not a single soul spoke and no one stepped forward. "Good." Jarvan grunted, nodding to himself. "Sergeant Major."

"Sir!" The noncom barked, stepping forward briskly.

"Check with the officer running the staff barracks and assign billets." He glanced around before looking to Vorscham. "I take it Victoria company will take over guard duties here for the command post now that the king has taken command?"

"We'll be rotating in and out of guard duty with Captain Hawke's Royal Guard Company." Vorscham said nodding stiffly to the prince. "We'll be providing security to you and the King while we're stationed here in the command post, and our forces will be at your direct disposal, sir."

"Good." Jarvan said, glancing about the command post before looking over his men. "You will have the evening off to recover from the journey, but don't go wandering off. We'll have an early start in the morning, and I want each of you on your best." He met the gaze of each of his subordinates in turn before saluting smartly. Each man, even the sulky looking Marsellus managed a crisp salute. "Dismissed. Captain, a moment of you time?"

Vorscham nodded, doffing his helmet and tucking it under his arm as he stood aside so the others could pass. He waited till the rest of Jarvan's staff had moved away under the Sergeant Major's exacting glare and sharpened tongue. Most of them grumbled slightly, but they were all headed towards the barracks. Jarvan suspected they would likely end up in the mess hall shortly afterwards and heard his stomach rumble. He hadn't eaten much that day.

"What can I do for you, sire?" Vorscham asked.

"Who is this Hawke character?" Jarvan asked, frowning as he gestured for Vorscham to walk with him. The prince started to head in the vague direction of his tent, a surge of relief filling his chest as he noticed Shyvana was still following close behind him.

"Captain Maria Hawke is a few years older than either of us…" Vorscham said, frowning slightly. "Graduated top of her class, went straight into the Scouting Battalions and excelled there. She rose through the ranks, but when there were no company command openings with the Scouts, she transferred to the Royal Guard. She's a very capable officer, though she's both ambitious and infamous for being ruthless. I'd be careful around her if I were you."

"I'll keep it in mind." Jarvan murmured, frowning slightly. "I take it you've returned for the King's staff meeting shortly?"

"Yes, sir." Vorscham nodded, his eyes darting towards the Valor Knight Lieutenant. "I get the feeling I'm being trailed right now, but I'll do my duty as well as the next man." He sneered as the knight turned to look around the camp. "If there's anything further, sir, I'd like to find some coffee before the meeting." Jarvan looked slightly closer and noticed that the captain had dark circles under his eyes.

"Perhaps you should retire for the evening, captain." Jarvan said, frowning slightly. "You look beat."

"I'll rest when my men are taken care of, sir." Vorscham said stiffly. "I also need to track down someone to figure out the mess arrangements…" His voice trailed off as he looked around the command post, likely looking for a high ranking officer or someone who had been on station longer than he had.

"Very well." Jarvan said as he sighed softly, stopping in front of the tent that had been assigned to him. "Good work, Vorscham." Jarvan cuffed his shoulder as he exhaled slowly. "I couldn't have made it through these past few days without you."

The Captain's expression softened slightly as he offered Jarvan a thin smile. "Of course, Jarvan." He stuck his hand out and Jarvan accepted it, shaking it once before saluting. Vorscham returned the salute and then spun on his heel, marching swiftly away in the direction of the mess tent. He watched as Shyvana waved her farewell to June before turning back to the prince.

Jarvan sighed heavily, finally alone with Shyvana. "How'd I do?" Jarvan asked, pulling off his helmet and running a hand through his sweat soaked hair. There was a weary smile on his face as Shyvana offered him her best encouraging smile.

"I thought you did just fine." Shyvana said, grinning up at him. "You're men have the utmost confidence in you, and so do I." Her voice was firm, and the prince's smile grew slightly, though his eyes were tired and Shyvana could see sadness in them.

"It feel strange to be in a position like this again after so long." Jarvan murmured. He turned towards the tent and pushed the door flaps aside, stepping into the darkness. He felt his armored shin connect with something heavy and he spat a curse as he fumbled about for a lantern in the darkness. "I can't see a damn thing…" He muttered.

"Here." Shyvana said, sweeping in behind him, her hands resting on his waist as she gently pushed him aside so she could slide past. Jarvan grunted as she moved past him, and though he could slowly feel his eyes adjusting to the darkness, he yelped when two orange glowing orbs loomed out of the darkness. They looked up at him and he felt a shiver run down his spine.

"Holy-…" Jarvan yelped. "Shyvana…" The prince took a deep breath to calm himself as he leaned back against a tent pole. "You scared the hell out of me…"

Shyvana raised an armored hand and let flames start to seep from between the armored plates. It danced excited along her hand and cast a dark orange flickering light around the tent, revealing the amused smile on her face. She raised the fiery hand above her head slightly as she glanced around. She finally found a lantern and extended her index finger to the wick, grinning as warm yellow light filled the room. "You alright, dear?" She asked playfully, as she shook her armored gauntlet, extinguishing the flames. Her eyes shimmered gold, the faintest outlines of scales showing on her cheeks, though the glowing orbs slowly dimmed till she blinked, the magenta orbs returning. She smiled up at the prince who was watching her with an annoyed grin.

"Can you really see in the dark like that?" Jarvan asked, his gaze searching her eyes and face.

Shyvana nodded. "Handy, isn't it?"

"I'll say." Jarvan chuckled, shaking his head. He used the lantern Shyvana had lit to light several others around the tent. The tent was larger inside than it had looked outside. There was a large central room that held a middling sized desk, some chairs, a table, a stove that was unlit, and what looked like a sort of couch. Jarvan frowned slightly, though he dropped his pack down onto the table. Jarvan's pack tipped over a bowl of fruit had been sitting at the center of the table, sending an apple rolling across the tabletop. Jarvan grabbed it before it could plunge off the edge, examined it briefly and then took a large bite out of the gleaming red apple. It was delicious.

"This tent is amazing." Shyvana murmured, looking around the open space. Her hands ran over the top the furniture as she wandered through the tent. The fabric walls rustled slightly with the wind, but her attention was caught by the two flap doors that led off of the main room. "I wonder what's behind these?" She turned to the prince who simply shrugged.

"No idea." Jarvan said before taking another massive bite out of the apple. He looked to Shyvana, who's eyes had been on the apple. "Here. Catch." He tossed the apple, which Shyvana caught easily. She blushed slightly, looking down at the half eaten apple as Jarvan watched, but took a bite out of it, savoring the sweetness and the crunch as juice ran down her chin. Jarvan laughed softly as he stepped towards her, using his hand to wipe away the juice. Shyvana blushed again, busying herself with taking another bite out of the apple. Jarvan slide past her, grinning down at her as he bumped past her, catching a rueful gaze from her as he swept back the flaps to the smaller of the two doors. "Bathroom by the look of it. Pretty nice shower, sink, and toilet." He said, an impressed tone to his voice. A frown formed on his face as he let the flaps fall shut.

"What's wrong?" Shyvana asked, noticing the look on his face.

"I suppose I find it slightly worrying that they've taken the time to install all this hextech plumbing." Jarvan shook his head. "I appreciate the convenience, but if they went through all this effort, they obviously plan on maintaining this encampment for a long time."

"You think Demacia is looking to establish a foothold here in Kalamanda?" Shyvana asked. Jarvan leaned back against the table, pausing next to Shyvana as he shrugged.

"I can't see any other reason to go through all this effort." Jarvan grumbled softly. "Unless they plan to let this conflict stretch out this long." Shyvana finished off the last of the apple, crunching on it thoughtfully. Jarvan looked at the core and grinned at the dragoness, who blushed. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who is hungry, too."

"Sorry." Shyvana muttered softly, blushing. "I didn't mean to finish it."

Jarvan chuckled. "Don't worry, love. We can eat as soon at the meeting with my father is over."

Shyvana nodded, smiling. Jarvan glanced at the clock that was hung across from the desk, nailed to one of the poles of the tent. "Though I would have though there would have been quarters for you here in my tent." Jarvan said, looking around. "It's standard practice for there to be quarters for an aide or bodyguard with most Demacian Generals." He frowned slightly, looking about, as if he had missed it.

"Why?" Shyvana asked, curiously, unsure what he was looking for.

Jarvan paused, standing up straight and frowning slightly. "It became standard practice a handful of years ago, while I was still at the academy. Noxus has long employed assassins to try and gain the upper hand on the battlefield. Well, Demacian Guards posted outside of quarters were proving easy to pick off or avoid. Therefore important Demacian officials were assigned bodyguards who were responsible for safety of the official at all hours, including while they slept. It was easiest to simply accommodate the bodyguards within the quarters of the offical, either a politician or officer. However, it seems someone forgot about it."

"Oh." Shyvana said, nodding slightly. "During training, June always just said not to get too worn out before going to sleep. It would make things easier that way."

Jarvan froze, mid stride. He groaned. "Don't tell me…"

"What?" Shyvana said, frowning slightly.

Jarvan moved to the larger of the two doors that led off of the main room and tossed the door open. He sighed loudly before stepping out of the way so Shyvana could see past him. Inside was the bedroom, and there was a single large bed sitting opposite them, against the far wall. It was set for two.

"Oh." Shyvana said blankly. Color flooded her face. " _Oh."_

Jarvan sighed, shaking his head. His cheeks were slightly flushed, but he couldn't hide the smile. "Yeah. Uh…" Jarvan ran a hand through his long black hair. "I don't mind… that is if you…"

Shyvana turned to look at him, a smile on her face. She shook her head. "I don't." Her cheeks were glowing, leaving her looking positively radiant. "Jarvan?"

The prince looked up. "Yes, Shy?"

"Does anyone _not_ know about us?" Her face was burning red.

Jarvan chuckled nervously, but he stepped forward, running his hand over Shyvana's cheek, taking her face in hand. He raised her face so he could look into her eyes. He searched the magenta orbs for a few moments, and she searched his blue eyes back. He smiled softly, leaned in and kissed the dragoness tenderly. He let his lips linger on his for several moments before sliding his arms around her. "I don't know how many know the truth, but to be perfectly honest, right now… I don't care." He felt Shyvana's arms tighten around him for a moment before she slid backwards, holding him away from her body.

"You're a prince though." Shyvana frowned slightly, and Jarvan could see her eyes glistening slightly, as if tears were welling there. "You should care about these things. Your people need a strong leader..if you…"

"If I what?" Jarvan said, matching her frown. "If I choose to follow my heart instead of bowing to my father's will?" He let the silence linger for a brief moment before continuing. "You say my people need a strong leader. Who would be a stronger leader than you and I?" This comment caused the dragoness's cheeks to burn.

"My strength is a terrible power, though…" Shyvana murmured.

"I swear, Shyvana." Jarvan muttered, taking the dragoness by surprise. She looked up at him and was surprised when Jarvan pushed in and kissed her deeply. Shyvana gasped for breath when Jarvan finally slid back, though he pressed his forehead to hers, their noses touching. Jarvan could feel the warmth from her glowing cheeks.

"Jarvan…" Shyvana murmured softly.

"See?" Jarvan said, grinning slightly. "Not a burn on me. Your power is my strength, my love. Your fire will be my sword; your love, my conviction; your mind, my wisdom. You need to start accepting that… you're not getting out of it."

"I…" Shyvana blushed furiously, wrapped her arms around the prince and buried her face in his arms. "Thank you." Her voice was quiet, just barely a thick whisper, but Jarvan stroked her hair slowly, and he kissed the crown of her head.

"I should be thanking you." Jarvan said softly, letting his lips rest atop her head. "You are my strength… without you… I would be lost." Shyvana said nothing, her throat had groan to thick to form words. She simply kept her arms wrapped around the prince.

"Ahem." Shyvana practically jumped backwards, but Jarvan left a hand resting on her waist.

"Delancey." Jarvan growled, frowning slightly. "What do you want?"

"The king was wondering where you had disappeared to." Delancey said with a imperious grin. "I'm sure he'll be happy to know that you're too busy trying to get into your girlfriend's pants to attend his staff meeting."

Jarvan glanced at the clock and spat another curse. "Damn, I didn't realize we were late."

"Take your time." Delancey laughed softly. "Several of the officers were out of an inspection of the camp and couriers have gone to fetch them. The king wanted me to extend his invitation to dinner while he waits for their return."

"O-of course." Jarvan said, straightening up, blushing lightly.

"Oh, and the invitation is for her too." Delancey said, jerking her thumb at Shyvana. He giggled to herself as the flaps fell shut behind her, dancing in her wake.

Jarvan sighed heavily, running a hand over her face. "I swear I'm going to make her pay some day."

"Maybe babysitting some day?" Shyvana said, her cheeks glowing as she smiled broadly.

Jarvan looked stunned, but he soon cracked a wide smile and began to laugh. "You know, I might just do that." He shook his head, though he wore a smile. "Come on. We'd better not make father wait too much longer." Shyvana nodded and let him lead her from the tent by the hand.

Shyvana looked down at their hands, both encased in armor, hers folded inside the prince's grasp. She smiled.


	9. Chapter 7: Meeting (Part 1)

Jarvan stepped into the command center and looked around. Two long tables had been pushed together along the center of the room and soldiers and cooks now swarmed around the room, setting the table, filling goblets and placing down serving platters, silverware, jugs of drink and other dressings and condiments. Jarvan glanced about and located his father sitting at the head of the long tables in a high backed chair. He was deep in conversation with several of his advisors. There were two seats empty, directly on his right side.

A waiter dressed in a grey uniform, a white apron tied around his waist, approached Shyvana and the prince, bowing shallowly. "Welcome, Prince Jarvan. If you and your Gunnery Sergeant will please follow me, I shall show you to your seats. This way, sire."

Jarvan glanced around the table, watching as other officers continued preparing materials for presentations, some bustling about and shuffling through papers, others simply sitting in their seats with thoughtful expressions. "Of course." Jarvan nodded to the waiter and followed as he picked his way through the tangle of high ranking officers, intel soldiers, and servers who were putting the last of the required dishes in their proper places before they served the meal.

"Here you are, sire." The waiter said, gesturing to the two seats directly next to the king at the head of the table. "Please, have a seat."

Jarvan nodded absently, his eyes still moving about the busy command center, picking out officers he did and didn't recognize. Jarvan noticed that several other officer's personal aides and guards were standing around the edge of the table behind their respective commanders, each standing just behind and to the right of their commander's chair. Shyvana had obviously noted this as well, because she was standing in the same position behind Jarvan's chair, immediately on the king's right. Her face was impassible, but Jarvan could tell that she was a little tense, most likely dreading having to watch the officers eat and not being able to herself. However she betrayed no discomfort, simply watching the proceedings with mock disinterest. Jarvan set his jaw, sitting gingerly on the edge of the chair, lacing his fingers together in front of him and leaning forward to listen to the conversation.

"…Colonel, you mentioned your scouts had observed troop movements among the Noxians, correct?" The king was looking to an officer Jarvan recognized as one of the staff who had ridden into the city with him. The strip just above his silvery grey uniform's right breast pocket was emblazoned with the name 'Jerome'. He wore a matching silvery-grey cloak that was thrown back over his shoulders, grey leather web strapping holding it in place around neck. Jarvan could see a number of leather pouches and packs that were resting on his belt, and noted that his subordinate, a woman with chestnut colored hair and attentive brown eyes, was wearing similar attire.

"Yes sir." Jerome said, nodding. "It's hard to get an accurate number, but the Noxians are swelling their ranks, and fast." He paused, glancing down at a piece of parchment that was lain out over his plate. "I have several reports that indicate approximately two battalions worth of troops shall be arriving in the next several days, but I also have a reliable source that indicates we may soon be facing as much as an additional brigade worth of reinforcements."

"What do the Noxians value so much in the region?" Jarvan recognized the brigadier general from the journey to Kalamanda. Brigadier General Duchress. The general stroked his goatee as he looked at the king, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Even with their recent withdrawal from Ionia, surely they are not so strapped for material that they would risk all out war for some simple crystal deposits? And besides, there is little else of value here for them to take."

"Mogron pass controls all landborn trade that must cross the great barrier." Jarvan growled firmly. He noted that the officers all turned toward him, most of them watching him with interest. "Kalamanda is also perched close to the main trading routes between the eastern and western nations across Valoran. It is only a matter of days travel by horse to all of the major trade routes for many months out of the year. If Noxus were to control this strategic point, they not only control the flow of goods below the Great Barrier, they also are put in a prime position to cut us off from our greatest allies if they so choose."

General Duchress made a show of recognizing that Jarvan had finally arrived at the table. His chin twitched slightly as he looked about, as if he were hoping someone would interject a new point or argument. Eyes started to turn on him though. "Demacia has no great allies." Duchress finally said officiously, letting his tone of voice carry an offended note to it. "Besides, even if the Noxians did control Kalamanda, what would we be deprived of that we could not simply import by ship? In case you had forgotten in your absence, Demacia is a major sea power on Runeterra, and we have one of the largest ports in the country." He indulged in a slight smile. It faltered when Jarvan hung his head for a moment.

"Surely you jest?" Jarvan said deadpan, shaking his head. He spitted the officer with an accusing glare. "Have you never stopped and considered who it was who brought all of these Hextech lamps that light your home and this tent? Who helps protect our soldiers and our great country from attack with their technology? None of these conveniences you take for granted would have been possible had it not been for the Piltovans. They've willingly shared their technology with us. They could have easily kept it for themselves, trading it for extreme amount of profit, but they've taught us to manufacture and create our own, despite our need to still import much of the technology. And have you even bothered to read the import manifests? All of the Hextech technology and devices we import from Piltover comes over land. It's dangerous to ship it via the ocean born routes because the salt in the air can corrode the components, not to mention the risk of losing entire shipments that valuable to a storm in the long transit routes. Besides, it's far easier to guard a wagon than a ship." Jarvan sighed, shaking his head. "For a Demsec officer, you're woefully under informed. If Noxus manages to cut off our trade routes with Piltover, both nations will suffer. You should know that."

There were a few moments where the Brigadier General simply glared at the prince, fury dancing in his beady eyes. He was purple in the face as he tried to form an answer, his appearance growing almost toad-like as his goatee bristled and his eyes bulged. "W-what would you know?" He finally spat, throwing up a hand and turning to the side. "You're just a boy with too much time on your hands, a desire for glory, and a taste for the exotic." The general's eyes had twitched in Shyvana's direction for a brief moment, though those at the table did not need to see this to know to what he was referring with his last pointed comment.

Jarvan opened his mouth to retort, but stopped when he felt a hand fall upon his shoulder. Shyvana had stepped forward, a slightly annoyed look marring her brow. "I'll have you know that Cecil Heimerdinger is a personal friend. When you decide to forsake friendships such as the one between Demacia and Piltover in the name of dignity, pride, vanity, or whatever else you think important, you are only dooming yourself to struggle alone and to ultimately fail in your endeavors." Her voice was firm and warm, though her eyes narrowed slightly as she glared down at the general, raising her head slightly."And when you no longer have anything to say and must resort to attacking your opponent rather than their stance, you know that the argument is over."

The brigadier general slapped his hands on the table as he jumped to his feet. "Why I never-…!" The chair he had just been sitting on shot out from behind him and knocked over a waiter carrying a pitcher of water and set the tray of glasses he had been carrying crashing to the ground. A ham like fist had come up, pointed at Shyvana like a sword. "I've never been so insulted, you insolent little-…" Jarvan got to his feet, glaring furiously as if he were daring the man to finish his sentence. While the dragoness was almost as tall as the general when he was standing, the prince absolutely towered over him. The general spluttered angrily as his gaze followed the prince up as he stood.

The room was silent except for the laughter of one man. The king's head was hung back as he boomed a deep chuckle, finally letting it die as he shook his head. "I believe, general, that unless you have a counterpoint, your argument has been effectively nullified."

"Sire…" The brigadier general muttered, his face red. "If you would only let me-…"

"The only thing I'm going to let you do is shut your fucking mouth before you make a bigger ass of yourself." The king snapped, his face going from jovial to dead serious in an instant. His eyes stormed a dangerous, thundery blue. "Or perhaps you'd like to fly a desk for the rest of your short lived career if you choose to keep this up."

"No sir." General Duchress muttered, shriveling slightly in his seat.

"I thought so." The king growled dangerously. He turned to Shyvana, frowning slightly, looking at the chair next to the prince. "I don't know why you're still standing. The seat is for you."

"Oh." Shyvana said, blushing slightly, looking down at the chair. "I had assumed-…"

"Sit." The king ordered, cutting her off before she could even finish her sentence. Jarvan got to his feet and dragged the chair out for Shyvana. She looked up at him and blushed a deeper shade of red before dropping into the seat, letting him tuck her back into her seat at the table.

"Now." The king pushed himself to his feet, looking over the assembled staff of the Demacian Kalamanda Garrison. "It has come to my attention that there shall be a number of visiting dignitaries in the morning. Most of them are coming from the Institute of War to try and help diffuse the situation, but we shall of course put on our best show for the dignitaries, and continue planning for the worst. I shall also be inspecting and conversing with the recovered miners. While we missed most of the extraction operation today due to our delays, we shall be able to catch up with the remaining few men as they are rescued tomorrow morning." The king waited for a few moments, looking around before nodding. "Before we get started with the staff meeting, myself, my staff, and many others have only just arrived so you will excuse us if we eat while the briefings are happening. After the food is served, we shall begin. Any questions?" The king looked around before nodding sternly. "Lieutenant, if you would?" He looked to the mess lieutenant who whistled sharply.

The dozen wait staff that had been milling about burst into action, lowering heaping dishes of food onto the table. Massive plates stacked with chicken legs, thickly cuts roasted red strider steak, and even baked fish. Pots of stews and baskets of thick, hearty breads were passed about for everyone to share. Bowls were heaped with roasted potatoes, green beans, spring greens, stuffed peppers, and every sort of grilled vegetable imaginable. Tureens of gravy and cranberry sauce floated about, and goblets of ale were doled out for everyone. Jarvan had picked himself up several chicken legs, a number of the small roast potatoes and a handful of the spring greens, tucking in with a hearty roll on the edge of his plate and a long pull from the heavy chilled ale. Shyvana had found herself several thick pieces of very rare strider steak, which she was managing to tear into with a fork and a knife, though Jarvan could see that she was utterly ravenous. Jarvan felt his own hunger rumbling as he grabbed a piece of chicken and tucked in. Soon, the only thing that could be heard over the clink of silverware on dishes was the dull murmur of chatter among the extended staff.

"Very well. We shall begin now." The king said over the clink of silverware. He glanced down at a sheet of parchment that sat on the corner of the table. He frowned slightly, his eyes searching up and down the page before he finally nodded. "While Captain Crownguard was in charge of this encampment and the forces stationed here up till now, he has graciously agreed to hand off the specifics to those better suited to the job." Garen bowed his head, only the slightest bit of color showing on his cheeks. "Colonel Witherton Aaregard Junior… I believe you have been leading the intelligence operations here in Kalamanda as of late?"

An officer halfway down the table wiped his mouth and stood up, bowing his head towards the king. "Yes sir." He moved to the far end of the table which had been left empty. A large board had been set up there, and as the colonel pointed at it, an aide started posting a number of different posters. Some were maps while others were portraits of different people from different factions across the continent. "First of all, let me extend my welcome to those of you either arriving in Kalamanda for the first time today or those of you who are returning." Jarvan felt a shiver run down his spine as the colonel's gaze flashed in his direction. "Since my posting here, it's been my responsibility to gather intelligence on the different players and factions who are making grabs for power and positioning here in Kalamanda."

"Currently, there are five major factions operating in the Odyn Valley." Colonel Aaregard growled, turning to the map. "Demacia dominates the western approach to the town of Kalamanda, Piltover to the northwest, Zaun to the northeast, while Noxus is massing on the eastern side of valley, with the remnants of the Kalamandan volunteer forces pooling in the center of the town. The newly discovered mines being fought over are located to the north of town, while the two magical nexuses sought by the Institute are located here and here." He paused to indicated two large purple dots on either side of the town."The town is approximately ninety percent cleared of civilian presence. Most of the remaining residents are government officials, militia personnel, business owners looking for profiting off the garrisons or holdouts who are hoping the entire conflict will blow over without incident." The colonel muttered something under his breath and with a wave of his hand, a fist sized patch of white color faded in along the center of the large map that had been posted on the board. "Most of the Kalamandans have consolidated around the town square, taking over some of the abandoned buildings to use as barracks, meeting places and storehouses."

The colonel turned towards the board where all the posters had been strung up, murmured under his breath again and with a wave of his hand, he enlarged one of the many photos to life size, bumping and shrinking all of the other pictures down to barely that of an apple, shunting them aside. The picture showed a smiling man with a bushy mustache, a balding head and a pink cheeks. He had a ruddy red nose, but his dark eyes seemed to sparkle with his smile, even in the black and grey picture. "This is Anson Ridly, mayor of Kalamanda. He is our main point of contact with the Kalamandans, and he is leading the delegation about to whom the mining contract will be granted, though the ultimate decision about the contract falls to this man. " Another mutter and wave of the hand resulted in the picture changing to a haughty looking bald man with a long face. He was the foil to the mayor. Where Anson Ridly had looked almost jovial, the new face looked bored and calculating. "This is Brandis Reyes, a senior member of the Kalamanda Town Council." Aaregard paused, his gaze turning dark for a moment. "Following recent accusations by Piltovan officials, we are currently investigating the possibility of collusion and the bribery of Councilman Reyes. My staff are currently working with the Kalamandan Constabulary and the Mayor to see justice is done and a fair decision is reached." Aaregard changed the picture again, this time depicting a heavy set man with thick jowls and lamb chop sideburns. He looked slightly cross in the picture, but the helmet on his head showed he was a constable of some sort in Kalamanda. "This is Faldris Velsin, captain of the Kalamandan Constabulary and the leader of their volunteer militia. He has also been assisting in our investigations, and he has shown a remarkable desire to maintain control over his policing of the town, despite our offers of assistance." The pictures all seemed to dance back to their proper size on their individual sheets of paper as the colonel turned back to the map.

"The Piltovan delegation resides just north of our own encampment." A large blue splotch of color faded in along the left side of the town map, indicating the Demacian camp. Above it, a smaller splotch of color faded onto the map in an oddly cheerful canary yellow. "We have been working closely with the Piltovan scientific team, lead by Cecil Heimerdinger to test and analyze the composition and material value of the crystal deposits and the two magical Nexuses, in addition to the estimated value and depth of the gold veins, which are already estimated to be immense." A large portrait of a squat yordle with a sizable afro dominated the right side of the board. It was distinct for several reasons, mostly the odd looking glasses on his nose, the wiry mustache that covered his mouth, and the large wrench that stuck out of his afro at an odd angle. There was a murmur of laughter at the yordle's appearance that passed through the group. The picture only remained for a few seconds before a young woman with short but bright hair and a cross expression dominated the screen. She wore goggles on her head, and the numerals 'VI' had been etched on her cheek. "Security for the Piltovan delegation is being run by this woman, named 'Vi', real name unknown. Little is known about her before her time under the current sheriff of Piltover, to whom she reports directly. She is known for her quick temper, so it is advised you tread carefully when dealing with her." Jarvan frowned, looking at the woman. He recognized her from somewhere, but he couldn't quite place where he had seen her before.

Shyvana had obviously recognized her as well, because she leaned over and whispered to Jarvan. "She was accompanying the Sheriff of Piltover when they had presented me with that medal at the ball."

"Oh… right." Jarvan said, nodding to himself. He picked up another chicken leg and gnawed on it thoughtfully, turning his attention back to the DSB Colonel and his presentation.

"…with their primary encampment located to the northeast of Kalamanda." The map filled with acid green blot of color, marking off a portion not much larger than the canary yellow patch belonging to the Piltovans, though it was less than a third of the size of the Demacian Blue. "The Zaun forces, similar to their Piltovan counterparts, have had a scientific team investigating the crystal deposits and Nexuses as well, and we believe they are sharing their information with the Noxian forces here. Their scientific endeavors are being led by one of their representatives within the league, known to most only as Singed." The picture shifted again, a large portrait of a disfigured looking man with cold, small eyes and a nearly bald head. Only a few wiry hairs poked from his head, and there were bandages wrapped tightly over the bottom half of his face, though there were scars that could be seen emerging from just under the edge of the bandages. "He is extremely dangerous and has a love of poisons. It is suggested that you avoid him at all times… it is rumored that he has been known to snatch up wandering people he views as enemies so he can test his concoctions." The picture shifted again, though this time there was a collective murmur of conversation that cropped up at the new appearance. "From what we can tell, Zaunite security has been contracted out to the scientist turned wolfman headhunter, Warwick the Blood Hunter. He is a savage murderer, and likely to kill you if you cross him, so it is advisable that you avoid him at all costs. It is unknown how many Zaunite forces he has assisting him." Jarvan noticed Shyvana had stiffened slightly at the appearance of the wolfman. She had mentioned being hunted by one during their foray into Noxus together, though Jarvan had never found out if it was the Blood Hunter or not.

"Finally, we have the Noxians." He gestured to the map and a massive crimson pool seemed to seep onto the map, spreading out towards the right side of the parchment map. "The Noxians maintain the largest garrison within the town, and while we are maintaining a peaceful arrangement with them currently, their constant troop buildup had had us worried. Among their number are a number of dangerous figures." He gestured to a large picture that bloomed on the board. Jarvan felt his blood run cold, and there were a number of other figures at the table that turned and cast him withering looks of uncertainty. The man was balding, though he had bright, beady, intelligent eyes. A scarf covered his mouth, though it did little to hide the sneer that stretched the lines on his face in a sinister manner. A glossy black raven with three gleaming eyes on one side of its head had been added to the picture, only adding to the menace of it. "This is General Jericho Swain. Recently promoted to the Noxian High Command to replace the still missing General Marcus Du Couteau, Swain is notorious for his ruthless and ingenious tactics. He is now in command of the Noxian Garrison here in Kalamanda. Little is known about his intentions, though we are currently trying to put _humint_ , human intelligence, into position within his command staff to try and glean some hint as to his intentions." The picture changed to a burly, angry looking soldier with a while streak decorating his dark hair. He wore a cross expression as he glared out of the picture. "General Darius is second in command of the Noxian council. It is theorized that he is here to evaluate General Swain's performance, though there are rumors floating about that he is actually reporting to Swain, though we have neither been able to confirm or deny." The picture changed again, showing a man that looked similar in appearance to the general from before.

Jarvan recognized the man, but turned his attention to Shyvana. Her fists were quivering, latched around the arms of her seat, her eyes shimmering a brilliant, menacing gold. "Shyvana?" He murmured softly as the picture finished expanding. "Are you…"

"I'm fine." Shyvana shot back. The coldness of her voice surprised the prince and he sat back. Shyvana exhaled softly and gave him an apologetic look but she did not relax at all and she did not speak. Her eyes remained glued to the board.

"This is Draven, brother to General Darius, known to many by his moniker _'The Glorious Executioner'_ from his fame in the Noxian arenas." The colonel paused, frowning slightly as he looked over the picture. Draven was grinning cockily, his sharp teeth bared and his wild eyes wide with excitement. Tattoos ran up his neck and over his face, and his distinctive facial hair was artfully being blown by the wind. "We are still in process of determining why he has arrived here from Noxus, though it is possible he was brought in for simple morale purposes." The picture changed again to reveal a woman with sharp but attractive features, though there was a gruesome scar that curved over her left eye. She had long hair and a dangerously inviting smile. "This is Katarina Du Couteau, daughter of the former Noxian General of the same family. While she is famed as a deadly assassin, she has been our primary contact during our occupation here in Kalamanda, and has been working with Captain Crownguard tirelessly to keep the tense peace here in the city." Gazes turned towards Garen, seated partway down the table, who nodded his head stiffly at the colonel.

Jarvan frowned at his old childhood friend, remember something that General Du Couteau had told him. _'I thought my daughter would have made a better choice than that…'_ The general hadn't indicated what choice his daughter had made regarding the Demacian Knight. _Perhaps I can find a way to ask him about it…_ He turned his attention back to the Colonel who had again changed the picture to show a man Jarvan did not recognize.

"The Institute of War's delegation has been fluctuating continually due to the close proximity of the institute." Aaregard continued. "They have a taken up residency in one of the Inn's within the town proper. Currently among them is the current Council of Equity Spokesman, Rovis Samadon." He indicated the pale looking man with a thin beard and deeply set eyes. He seemed to be wearing a sad expression, but Jarvan could only guess that was just the way the wrinkles on his face seemed to sag. "Another frequent visitor has been the temporary councilor Heywan Relivash, who has stepped up amid the conspiracy following the mysterious disappearance of Reginald Ashram." The picture changed, bringing up the last of the major players in the Kalamanda region. With strikingly bright eyes, a strong jaw, long golden hair, the face was distinctive. Behind her, a few feathers could be seen and it left no question about her identity. "The last… ah… _person_ of note is the being Kayle. She is acting on behalf of the Institute of War, though only recently has she sought permission to take up residence in Demacia during our ongoing investigations regarding the Kalamanda mining incident. I believe captain Crownguard has been speaking working closely with her, and can speak at length about her role in the coming weeks if he thinks it necessary."

Garen nodded his head at the man in acknowledgement, though he did not stand up. "My staff will be dispensing copies of all of this data plus more at the end of the meeting. Any additional information that is known or aggregated in the mean time and is deemed necessary can be added or dispensed as required. Any questions?" He glanced around the room. "Thank you." A smattering of clapping echoed through the tent as Aaregard saluted the king at the opposite end of the table and returned to his seat. There were a few minutes of chatter as waiters put dishes stacked with all sorts of desserts, from pastries, cookies, pies and puddings to cakes and colorful fruit dishes. Jarvan grinned to himself as Shyvana tucked into some of each. The look on her face seemed to speak of the fact that she was looking to try everything she could and was looking forward to it. She noticed the prince watching her and blushed slightly, sitting back in her chair.

"Very good." The king said stiffly, nodding his head as he served himself a piece of apple pie. He looked to Shyvana, gesturing to the dish with the knife, and she blushed slightly but nodded. The king served her a slice as well before returning it to its place on the table and turning his attention back to his staff. "General Duchress, you have information regarding forces outside the Odyn Valley that may be prevalent you wished to discuss, yes?"

The general nodded his head in thanks and stood, being careful not to knock over his chair this time. He moved around the table to the end where Colonel Aaregard's staff had been removing the posters that he had used, and now lacking the officer's magical influence, had returned to normal. He waited a few moments as they finished clearing away the previous materials before gesturing a panicked looking young woman who was struggling to hold a long tube of parchments in one hand and a folded map in the other. The general accepted several pieces of parchment from the woman before turning to the table to begin speaking before the woman had finished posting the large length of parchment to the board.

"There is an ongoing situation in Noxus which has only recently come to light, and under advisement of General Holven Lorcan, I have been given orders to reveal previously classified details regarding the possibility of an ongoing plot revolving around the conflict here in Kalamanda." Duchress stood up slightly taller, sucking in the little bit of pudge that rolled over his belt as he tried to look important. Jarvan felt a chill run down his spine at the mention of the plot. He sat up straighter, turning his attention to the general. "There is new information regarding the current state of affairs in the Noxian Command structure. Support has slowly been waning for the Grand General, Boram Darkwill, over the past several decades, culminating with the disappearance of General Marcus du Couteau. It is unknown how many members of his High Command still remain truly loyal to the Grand General, however, with the return of Chancellor Malek Hawkmoon to Noxus from his posting in Ionia, it would appear the Grand General's position has been noticeably strengthened compared to as of late. It is General Lorcan's assumption that with this strengthening of the Grand General's hold on Noxus, we should be prepared for those who are dissenting possibly to be driven to a more violent grab for power." The general paused to let the impact of his statement slowly sink in, but he was interrupted before he could continue.

"General, are you suggesting a coup is likely within the Noxian Command structure?" Colonel Jerome looked as if he didn't believe the possibility of what Duchress was hinting at. "Darkwill has ruled for a hundred years. What makes you think that it will change now?" There was a hint of a smile on his face as the colonel chuckled, a soft murmur of laughter echoing through the room. The colonel looked back to the general but the deathly serious glare from the general silenced the man's next comment. There was silence for several moments before his eyes widened slightly. "You're not kidding…" His voice was quiet as he sank slightly in his seat. His mouth twisted into a grimace as a cross but thoughtful expression slid over his face.

"It is the general's belief that this grab for power will be made here, in Kalamanda. Because of this, we've begun moving further troops into Kalamanda and the Odyn Valley to reinforce our existing garrison in hopes of dissuading an attack on our forces as the inciting incident. It is likely that any attempts to dispose of the reigning Grand General will be bloody and extremely violent, and with so many assets concentrated in the region, we are actively trying to prevent further conflict from breaking out. As everyone knows, tensions are already high. If conflict breaks out… it is likely to cause a full scale war." He paused again for impact. Jarvan grimaced, noticing that the general's eyes flickered towards himself. The general curtly coughed into his fist and then straightened up again, the buttons of his officer's tunic straining slightly as he tried to look imposing. "As you might know, General Darkwill has not left Darkbourne Keep for nearly a decade, but it is believed with his advancing age, the changing of the guard, and the replacement of General Du Couteau, one of Darkwill's staunchest supporters, the position of Grand General is in a prime position to be disputed for the first time in over a century. Our source has also indicated unrest in the Noxian Populace, with discord aimed at the Grand General's loss of Ionia and his goals of maintaining peace instead of the Noxian ideal of power. Probes within the populace has indicated frustrations at the political nature of the Institute of War's dispute resolution, again, we believe stemming from the general's loss of Ionia."


	10. Chapter 8: Meeting (Part 2)

"Just who is this source of yours, general?" A captain towards the far end of the table asked. The woman had pale skin and dirty golden blonde hair. The most striking feature was not her hair though. Eyes the color of liquid, shimmering gold glanced about, settling on General Duchress. The woman was pretty, with high cheek bones and a sharp chin, and though Jarvan could see that she was attractive there was something unnerving about the predatory look in her eyes. It was like the eyes of a lion who was closing on their prey, watching it squirm and tire before a final blow.

 _She's dangerous and she looks smart._ Jarvan's blood ran cold. _If she managed to pressure something out of the general… if the word gets out that Katarina is undermining a Noxian general, she won't last long, respected house of Noxus or not._ Jarvan's gaze turned on the general, wondering if it would be worth interrupting and stopping the conversation before it went any further.

"General Lorcan has deemed it unwise to disclose the source for their own safety." The general said, again trying to sound reassuring, though the vague terms he used did not inspire any confidence with the staff. "However, the source is involved within the high levels of the Noxian Command structure, and the information was gathered in such a manner that is not indicative of entrapment or deceit aimed at weakening us for an attack."

"But how can you be sure?" The same captain asked again, her golden eyes flashing dangerously as if she were circling, looking for an opening with which she could strike. A vessel had started throbbing in the general's face as it slowly started to turn purple. "What makes you think that the information is true?"

"The information comes from a reliable source who General Lorcan trusts." The general said politically, blustering slightly. "The identity of the source is highly classified, and you do not need to know."

"Yes, but…" The captain start again, but clamped her mouth shut when the king cleared his throat.

"I personally have seen, cleared, approved and looked over all of the information myself, Captain Hawke." The king said evenly. "If you have a personal problem with this I can speak with you personally afterwards if you need further insurance."

The captain remained quiet for several moments before shaking her head. "No sir, I understand."

"Very good." The king said, nodding his head slowly. "Hmm, perhaps you'd like to bring us newcomers up to speed on the security situation now, Captain? Or if Captain Crownguard is ready we can-…" His voice trailed of as she stood up brusquely and started for the head of the table. An aide was already posting a large map on the board. "Very well. The floor is yours, Captain Hawke."

"Thank you, your highness." She nodded her head politely as she scanned the table quickly. Jarvan felt something electric run down his spine when her golden eyes met his for a brief moment, the officer offering him small grin before turning to look at the king. "Up until now, security has been fairly light considering the large volume of forces concentrated in the Odyn Valley. The Kalamandan Constabulary has been maintaining control over the neutral territory that is concentrated along the center of town and along a cordon that runs north and south from town square. The policy is that each camp has jurisdiction over their own areas, but when in the cordon or territory still under Kalamandan control, the Kalamandan Constabulary has control. They are fairly lenient, only detaining rowdy personnel or those looking to cause trouble, allowing them to be retrieved and dealt with by their respective commanders. There have only been a few arrests of rowdy personnel on all sides, but other than a single incident, a bar brawl at the Hasty Hammer Tavern quickly handled by Captain Crownguard and his Noxian counterpart, Katarina Du Couteau, things has been relatively quiet." She paused for a moment and then let a thin smile grace her lips. "Tense, but quiet."

"So far my company has handled primary security for the Demacian Encampment, but from now on I shall be sharing duties with Captain Vorscham and his Victoria Company." Captain Hawke turned her golden eyes on Vorscham and he sat up a little straighter in his seat. "Captain, if you wouldn't mind finding me afterwards, I would like to discuss established protocol and operations with you if possible."

"Of course." Vorscham said gruffly, nodding though.

"Very good." Captain Hawke turned back to the assembled command staff. "For those of you who are new here, we only have a few rules. Curfew is two in the morning, Kalamandan policy. Antagonism of opposing forces is not tolerated, my forces already have more than enough to deal with. Guard teams patrol the perimeter at all times, and while intrusive, there are periodic checks of every facility within the base. I ask that all personnel not on guard duty stay away from the walls and guard towers at all times, my men have nearly killed several drunken personnel they believed to be infiltrators in the darkness on several occasions." Her smile grew slightly. "While out Field Hospital here is good, I do not need or want to have to fill up beds with drunken soldiers with lance wounds from sneaking up on a guardsman." There was a murmur of laughter around the room. "There are two entrances, here and here…" She marked two locations at 3 and 10 o'clock on the roughly circular Demacian blue circle on the base map. "…That are manned at all times. If you need to enter or leave the base, you can do so through either, however, entering the base will require military identification to reenter after certain hours. It is advisable you keep identification papers or dog tags on you at all times. I have had our own men detained on several occasions for lacking it and I do not wish have to detain any other personnel." She looked about and nodded, smiling. "Please stay vigilant and report anything out of the ordinary to my men. Thank you."

Captain Hawke returned to her seat almost as abruptly as she had left it, though Jarvan noticed her cast him a quick glance before she took her seat, flashing him a toothy grin. Chatter seemed to spread through the command center, starting from those newest to the encampment first. Jarvan noticed that Vorshcam was talking to Juniper quietly.

"Captain Crownguard." The king said, breaking over the general murmur of chatter that had cropped up over the policies imposed upon the base camp. "Was there anything you need to add regarding those you have been working with?

"Yes sir." The gruff looking blue eyed captain growled. "You'll excuse me if I do not stand as I have no presentation to show, only a few words to speak, seeing as I have only just returned to the encampment here."

"Of course." The king said, nodding. "Please, continue."

"I would ask of every fellow Demacian here to treat Judicator Kayle with the utmost respect." Garen spoke firmly. "She is concerned for the safety of our lives as much as her own, and her efforts to assist me in my investigations to determine the culprits behind the sinking of the DSS Excursion rival only that of my own. Her assistance has been invaluable and should any insult be levied against her, think of that insult as levied against my honor as well." His face hardened slightly as he looked about. "The same goes for Katarina Du Couteau."

There was a murmur of chatter that passed through the group, though this time there was a mix of anger and confusion in the voices of the staff members.

"Perhaps you'd like to explain as to why we should both showing respect to a Noxian assassin?" The previously smiling and sweet voiced Captain Hawke's tone had turned cold as steel, her golden eyes flaring almost as dangerously as that of the dragoness sitting next to Jarvan.

"She's just a dirty Noxian whoress!" Someone shouted over the rising angry chatter. "She can die in the gutter like the rest!"

"Silence!" The king roared, pushing himself to his feet, slamming his fist down onto the table. The entire table shook, several goblets toppling over and spilling their contents onto those who had not finished their drink. "Such language and accusations is an insult to both me and the honor of my house." He waited for several moments as soldiers and officers settled back into their seats. Some of the waiters had rushed forward and were now clearing away the spilt drink and taking away the overturned cups. Not long afterwards, new cups with less liquid in them than before had been placed onto the table, the waiters scurrying out of the way before something else ended up on the ground. "Captain, you should likely explain yourself." The king cast one last menacing glance across the soldiers and officers now crowded around the table, his eyes the color of stormy blue thunderheads. The king lowered himself down into his seat, though he was only just perched on the edge of it. He steepled his fingers in front of him, his gaze finally turning on the captain.

"Though many do not want to admit it, Miss Du Couteau was instrumental in the rescue of eight of the missing twelve Demacian miners." Garen growled, turning his fierce gaze around the table. "And at the very least, showing her the civility of respect until the last five have been successfully be rescued shall show the true honor and strength of character of the Demacian People. Without her or her forces we would have been unable to so much as attempt to recover them. It was my decision to ask for her assistance and mine alone. If you chose to punish me for this crime, so be it. I will accept it with my head held high. However, hold your punishment until I have ensured all of our men have been rescued. Then, and only then will I accept whatever punishment you decide to levy against me." Garen glared at the king defiantly.

Several moments of angry silence echoed through the command center. The king's gave finally feel as he sighed and sank back in his seat. He turned his gaze towards Jarvan for a brief moment before he shook his head. "Marcus… If you could only see them now… I swear, it's like there are two of them…"

"Father?" Jarvan asked quietly.

The king shook his head as he stood up, clearing his expression, leaving it neutral. He looked at Garen, crossing one arm over his chest, holding the opposite elbow, stroking his beard with his hand for several moments as he watched the defiant captain. "You will be responsible for her and her actions towards Demacia. Any crime against Demacia in her time among our people or while in your stewardship will be placed upon your head. Are you willing to accept that responsibility?"

Garen frowned slightly, his gaze falling to the table as if he was debating something internally. His head snapped up abruptly though, his brilliant blue eyes remained defiant. "Yes. I accept."

"Very well, Captain." The king said firmly. "Dealing with Katarina Du Couteau will be your responsibility." The king surveyed the table with hard eyes for several long moments before he sighed and sat back in his seat. "This meeting is concluded. I need time to think. Thank you all." The king was frowning as he rose to his feet. The rest of the room rose quickly before saluting smartly. The king returned it before turning and striding from the command center, the flaps of the door billowing behind him. Xin Zhao disappeared behind him as some of the other officers started to talk in the king's absence. The quiet tones seemed to be aimed towards Garen who still looked angry enough to launch an attack on anyone who tried to start something. Most gave him a wide berth as they returned to their duties though, content with simply murmuring accusations and casting him cold glances.

Shyvana frowned slightly, her gaze following the captain as he headed towards the door, ignoring all the others who were moving around him. "I feel bad for him. I know what it's like to have everyone turn against you."

"Shy…" Jarvan said softly, frowning. "Who-…"

Shyvana shook her head and smiled at the prince, though he could see a bit of pain in her eyes. "I don't need others to like or want me to be happy. As long as I have you… I don't care what they think."

Jarvan blinked several times as the words processed in his head before he blushed furiously. His cheeks were the color of Shyvana's hair as she looked up at the prince. She was surprised at first, but the surprise turned to a broad smile as she started to giggle before finally breaking into a hearty laugh. "W-what!?" Jarvan said fiercely.

"Y-your face!" Shyvana said, doubling over laughing. "It's hysterical!"

Jarvan turned away, struggling to keep himself under control. He made of show of stretching his hands over top of his head, but it slowly turned into a yawn. Jarvan struggled to stifle the yawn as officers began to leave the command center in groups. He watched as Garen exited the room with his lieutenant in tow. Jarvan looked over to where Shyvana was standing as she eyed the last of the desserts spread over the table, an amused smile on her face as she stole a glance at the prince. "Still hungry?" Jarvan murmured with an amused smile.

Shyvana looked to him and blushed, shaking her head, the smile on her face falling slightly. "Not hungry. I just hate to see it all go to waste…"

"It won't be wasted." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "It will be served to others or used as feed."

"Oh." Shyvana said, casting a longing look towards a plate of cookies.

Jarvan grinned. "Here…" He stepped back to the table and was messing with something, but Shyvana couldn't see around him, his back facing her. "Now you can take them with you." The prince offered her a cylindrical bundle of what she could smell was cookies, wrapped in a linen napkin.

"Jarvan…" Shyvana murmured, a smile breaking out over her face. "You... thanks." She looked up at the prince but blushed furiously when he leaned in and kissed her briefly. He stood back and grinned, winking at her as he stepped back, looking over his shoulder. Shyvana tried to banish the color from her cheeks but it continued to burn high in her face. She glanced around, seeing pairs and pairs of eyes glancing away from her, hurrying to look busy. Shyvana should have been mortified, but for some reason she didn't care. Jarvan looked back, blushing slightly as she stared up at him. It was the prince's turn to chuckle at her dumbfounded expression. "Shyvana? What's wrong?"

Shyvana blinked rapidly, her eyelashes fluttering rapidly, her face flooding with a crimson color though a smile curled at her the corners of her mouth. "Nothing, nothing." She hid her face as she tried to regain her composure, sneaking a gaze at the prince from behind her fingers. She took a deep breath, slowly inhaling and then exhaling, shaking her head before setting her jaw. She turned briskly and nodded at the prince as she struggled not to grin happily. "Ready to go, sir."

Jarvan exhaled sharply and then nodded, wearing a lopsided grin. "Sir?" He raised an eyebrow and shook his head before he turned slightly, jerking his head to indicate the dragoness should follow. "Come on, love. I want to go catch up with Garen before we head back to the tent."

"I'll be right behind you." Shyvana said, following him outside the command center. They didn't have to look far before they found Captain Crownguard. Behind him stood his lieutenant, Tunis, next to him was a cross looking Captain Vorscham with a worried June behind him, and finally, facing him with her fists posted on her hips was the blonde hair and dangerously golden eyes of Captain Hawke.

"…You're playing a dangerous game, Garen." Hawke snapped, her voice cross and testy. "If you play games with that little redheaded whore you're only going to get yourself hurt and bring shame to your nation. Hell, if you keep thinking with your prick you're likely get us all hurt."

"Watch what you say." Garen hissed angrily as his blue eyes darkened menacingly. His voice dropped deathly quiet as he leaned forward, his finger aimed accusingly at the woman's chest. "Or perhaps someone might finally notice how you keep managing to get yourself into higher positions..." Garen glanced down toward her legs, letting a satisfied smirk slide onto his face. "Better yet, maybe they'll notice how you just like to scrub the floors of your apartment right after every visit an pay a ranking officer…" Garen indulged himself in a victorious smile. "Well, we'll just see who the real whore is then, now won't we?"

Hawke blustered angrily for a moment as her face turned red with embarrassment and anger. "Oh, what, and you know this for a fact?" Hawke snarled, her arm coming back. "You bastard!" Vorscham caught her wrist before she could aim a slap at Captain Crownguard. She tugged against his grip, finally pulling it away, though she ended up nearly toppling over, finally regaining her balance a handful of yards away. "Don't you touch me, Proudmast!" She snarled again, trying to wrench her hand free. "I need to teach this jackoff some manners!"

"Get a hold of yourself, Maria." Vorscham growled. "Assaulting another officer will get you imprisoned. I'll do it now and save you the trouble if you'd-…"

"What's going on here?" Jarvan roared, freezing all three of them in place, their angry expression all turning on him. Garen turned on Jarvan, his blue eyes flaring, but they dulled slightly as he stood up straighter. Hawke was glaring daggers at Garen but stood up straighter as well, forcing a smile onto her face. Vorscham took a wide step back and stood rigidly at attention.

"Sir!" Vorscham, June, and Tunis barked, snapping to attention and saluting.

"Apologies, Jarvan." Garen muttered. His gaze turned icy as it fell on Hawke. "But if this… _officer_ wants to insult Katarina then she's attacking my honor directly as well, and I will not stand for it."

"Oh so she's 'Kat' now?" Hawke snarked, rolling her eyes. "Listen to yourself. A Demacian officer getting cozy with a Noxian assassin…"

"Enough." Jarvan snapped, turning on Hawke. He could feel the hair rising on the back of his neck at the thought of his own experiences with Katarina. _If anyone knew the deals I have made…_ Jarvan shook his head and stood up straighter, turning on Captain Maria Hawke. Her golden eyes glimmered brilliantly in the flickering torch light that lit the camp, warding off the darkness, her hair glowing with a brilliant orange sheen, as if her head was wreathed in fire. "Your business is with Captain Vorscham, unless I was mistaken. Unless you have an official complaint to levy against Captain Crownguard, you should stop wasting both his and Captain Vorscham's time."

The blonde captain bristled slightly, her eyes growing wider as she opened her mouth and then shut it again right after. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "And what if I wanted to levy an official complaint?"

"I'm listening." Jarvan said evenly, crossing his arms over his chest, his glare unflinching as Hawke glared daggers back at him. "Any complaint over Captain Crownguard's conduct can be levied with me."

Hawke frowned slightly, looking the prince up and down, but she glanced past him, looking towards the dragoness with a slight frown. "I've withdrawn my opinion, sir." Hawke said, slightly subdued, though there was a hint of sarcasm still in her voice. She exhaled slowly before bowing to the prince. "My apologies sir. To you… and Captain Crownguard." She added the latter part when she noticed Garen frown. She batted her eyes at the prince several times, offering him a consoling smile as she spoke. Jarvan felt a wave of heat pass over him from the side and glanced over his shoulder, noticing that the warmth pouring off of Shyvana was billowing her hair. Hawke noticed too, her gaze flickering towards the dragoness, causing her smile to grow slightly.

Jarvan frowned but ignored the two women, turning to Vorscham. "I believe you had business with the Captain?" He waited till Vorscham nodded. "Get to it, then. It's late and we have any early start in the morning, captain." Vorscham nodded, turning to Hawke who now looked immensely pleased with herself. Jarvan waited till they had left, June following in their wake, before sighing explosively, his shoulders slumping.

Garen fought back a knowing grin as he turned to his lieutenant who was trying not to get caught looking at Shyvana. Garen glanced from Tunis to the dragoness and frowned when the lieutenant tried to look as if he wasn't doing anything. Garen crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at his lieutenant who looked sheepish when he finally noticed his captain's attention. "Tunis, go with them and take notes about what they decide to do."

"Sir?" Tunis muttered, looking slightly forlorn. "What do you-…"

"Now, Tunis." Garen growled. "Go." There was a moment when the junior officer frowned, glaring back at Garen, but he finally saluted smartly, pulling himself up to his full height.

"Sir." Tunis said stiffly, taking one last look towards the dragoness before turning on his heel and marching away stiffly after the other captains

Jarvan sighed heavily as he was left with just Garen and Shyvana, running his hands over his face. "My lord…" He muttered softly to himself, shaking his head before dragging his hands through his hair, clearing it from his face.

"My apologies, your highness." Garen muttered tiredly. "I did not expect that sort of reaction. Had I know how my idea would have been received I wouldn't have bothered…"

"I'm not surprised about the reaction honestly." Jarvan said, shrugging before standing up slightly taller, putting on a more officious look. "However, I want you to know, you have my father's and my support. All I ask is that you don't let us down." There was surprised look on the Captain's face but it slowly dissolved into a soft smile.

"Thank you, Jarvan." Garen replied, exhaling slowly, shaking his head. "And when have I ever let you down? Katarina is a good woman." He paused, frowning, as if he was considering how absurd that statement sounded. "…Well, she may be a bit too violent and erratic sometimes, but her heart is far more just than most Noxians. She doesn't want the power… she just wants to see her nation and her people prosper and thrive." Jarvan suppressed the urge to comment about how they were trying to stop Swain from destroying Noxus in his lust for power and simply nodded.

"Perhaps you can invite her to come visit with us in the morning when we observe the last of the recovery efforts." The prince said, grinning slightly. "And you can take me on a tour of the village afterwards. She can tag along?"

"Hah, and have your reputation of choice of company rub off on me?" Garen said, grinning wider. "My image seems to be bad enough in the eyes of the command staff, I don't think you can drag it any further down." He chuckled, grinning at the prince's expense, his laughter growing louder as Jarvan rolled his eyes. "You caught your father's comment, I take it?"

"Yep." Jarvan chuckled softly. "I'm surprised you heard it though. I was looking forward to a good laugh about it." The two officers shared an almost mischievous grin, leaving them looking like two young boys who had just managed to steal a cookie without getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"Kinda like senior formal…" Jarvan said, his grin growing as Garen hung his head, a low groan echoing from the captain's throat. "You do remember how that evening went, don't you?"

The captain's head hung as he sighed, shaking his head. "I wish you would let me forget about that night. That's not an evening I want to remember…" Jarvan laughed aloud, and even Garen cracked an abashed smile.

Shyvana glanced back and forth between the two of them, both of them now grinning like idiots. "Care to let me in on the joke?" She said, looking at Jarvan with an accusing glare. Garen stiffened slightly, but the prince froze as if he _had_ just been caught with his hand caught in the cookie jar. "It's a long story. Uh…" He glanced over at Garen who was giving him a curious but amused grin at the awkward situation Jarvan now found himself in. Jarvan looked like he had just been ambushed.

"Karren Jelsovn." Garen said looking at Shyvana, his smile falling slightly. Jarvan grimaced, which seemed to spur the captain on as he turned back to Shyvana, shaking his head as if he was ashamed that he even remembered her name. "It was our final year at the Royal Academy. Karren was in our year. Very pretty, very outgoing… she had a great pair of… ah… she had a great personality but she was insufferably dumb."

"Pair of personalities?" Shyvana looked confused for a moment. Garen responded with a cheesy grin by making a motion as if he was holding two large melons in front of his chest. Shyvana flushed slightly, turning to glare at Jarvan, though she couldn't fight back the smile.

"Hey, she wasn't that bad!" Jarvan blushed, frowning slightly and glaring at the captain.

"That's only because you were too busy staring at her chest in that skimpy little dress to hear what she was trying to say!" Garen snapped back, spitting the prince with an accusing glare. Jarvan's mouth hung open as he blushed, standing up straighter and coughing. He glanced at Shyvana, and while she had crossed her arms over her chest, she was smiling broadly at Jarvan's expense, watching the two old friends with a curious but entertained gaze. Garen sighed, shaking his head before continuing. "Anyways. Jarvan had asked her to the summer formal dance at the end of the year. She wouldn't give him an answer though. So, the big idiot had an idea." Jarvan's face burned pink and he forced a grimace onto his face, still purposely avoiding Shyvana's gaze. "He figured he'd make her jealous enough to finally accept her invitation."

"Jealous?" Shyvana repeated, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked accusingly at the prince. "Do I even want to know?"

"It's not bad." Jarvan said, finally looking down at her with a sheepish smile. His gaze turned to Garen whose look of dread had returned. "Not for me at least. Keep going, Garen. You're not done with the story yet."

"I know." Garen said, shaking his head. His grin was growing slowly as he cast an annoyed look at the prince. "So, Karren had a little sister who was only in her second year of the upper school of the Royal Academy, making her a few years younger than all of us. The idea was that if I asked the little sister to the dance, who wouldn't be getting to go unless someone asked, then Karren would want to out shine her little sister because she was graduating soon. Well, Jarvan and I were pretty famous-…"

"More like infamous." Jarvan corrected, getting a giggle from Shyvana.

"…-infamous," Garen nodded, grinning, "So of course her sister accepted. I was from one of the royal families and she wasn't likely to end up going. It wasn't even a day before Karren had returned and accepted Jarvan's offer. This blockhead was about as happy as a clam. The sister was cute, so I didn't mind." Garen chuckled. "Well…" His voice trailed of as he hung his head.

"The dance arrived." Jarvan said, grinning mischievously now. "Well… Karren wasn't really interested in me, but she seemed willing to put up with me enough to make sure her sister was put in her place. Garen, thinking he was gonna get lucky with the sister, was in for a rude surprise though."

"Turns out the only reason she'd accepted my invitation is because she wanted to get with the prince." Garen snorted, rolling his eyes. "Doe eyes and shivering like a leaf every time she saw him. It was shameful."

"Ah, stow it." Jarvan said, matching Garen's expression. "Your date left you."

"Yours did to!" Garen snapped back, posting his fists on his hips, trying to look angry. Jarvan met his gaze, trying to match his glare, but their gazes slowly faltered and soon they were both roaring in laughter.

"You two were a real pair weren't you?" Shyvana said, shaking her head. Jarvan was grinning infectiously, despite the exasperation on the dragoness's face. Jarvan snuck a hand out to Shyvana. She noticed, and while she gave the prince an accusing glare, she slid her hand into his and gaze it a warm squeeze. "You're still an idiot, Jarvan. I can't speak for Garen, but you…" She shook her head, smiling and sighing. Jarvan and Garen glanced at each other and chuckled again, the prince shrugging.

"You should have seen us in our prime, love." Jarvan said, grinning, giving her hand another squeeze. "We were a couple of real bandits. We got away with anything and everything. Ah, I haven't laughed so hard in ages. Garen, you should come around more, I've missed your company." Garen started to nod, but stopped, frowning as he looked at Shyvana.

"Well…" Garen started.

Jarvan sighed, turning his glare on Garen. Shyvana looked up at him unsure of what to expect, however she was relieved to see the same mischievous grin that she had seen him just wearing minutes before. "You know what, Garen? You need to get over the fact that Shyvana beat you. Getting all formal and pissy around her is getting kind of obnoxious."

"Wha…?" Garen said, blinking several times, taken aback. "You… you think I'm still angry about the fact that she surprised me by turning into a dragon to win the fight?"

Jarvan and Shyvana looked to each other and then back to Garen, both of them now grinning. "Yes." They said together.

Garen looked affronted, but his face slowly calmed and then turned red. He turned away, frowning slightly. "I'm not mad about that… It's just…" He took a deep breath, shook his head and turned away, starting to walk away. He paused, looking back, taking a half step towards them. He gestured to his hair. "It's the red hair. Well… she reminds me of Katarina. If you'll excuse me, Jarvan?" Garen saluted the prince but didn't wait as he strode away quickly, leaving Shyvana and Jarvan simply staring after him.

 _So that's what Marcus Du Couteau meant…_ Jarvan shook his head, a soft grin on his face. _I guess father hit it on the head._ He looked down and gave Shyvana's hand an affectionate squeeze. _I guess with both have a soft heart for red-hair women who others disapprove of…_

"What's wrong, Jarvan?" Shyvana asked, looking up at him, confusion in her expression.

"Oh, it's nothing." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "I was just thinking that Garen and I both have an affection for redheads…"

Shyvana looked surprised as she glanced in the direction Garen had disappeared in. "You don't think… he and Miss Du Couteau…?"

"I don't have any idea." Jarvan said, shaking his head and grinning. "I know they've been working together quite a bit… So… I suppose it wouldn't be surprising if something happened there actually." He grinned, looking down at Shyvana.

"Huh…" Shyvana murmured thoughtfully, reconsidering the captain. She looked up to the prince suddenly, her gaze accusatory. "So wait, developed an affection for redheads, have you?" She slid back from him, raising an eyebrow, grinning as she crossed her arms over her chest. Jarvan laughed as he quickly glanced around the area before he leaned in and kissed her, taking her by surprise. Shyvana responded though, pushing back against him. Jarvan finally slid back, looking down at the dragoness with a knowing grin as she breathed heavily. She blushed slightly; she had gotten lost in the kiss. "No fair… taking me by surprise like that."

"Maybe you'd like me to show you how much of an affection I've developed?" Jarvan said playfully as his voice dropped low in the near deserted courtyard, keeping it quiet enough so that it wouldn't reach to the guards that were posted in front of doors around the grassy area. He let his eyes dance down Shyvana's armored form, taking in the form fitting armored plates with a grin on his face.

Shyvana blushed slightly, though she glared up at Jarvan, determined not to fall prey to his attack. A playful grin of her own slid onto her face as she turned and started heading towards the tent she shared with the prince. She glanced back at him, making sure she wiggled her hips slightly. The dragoness grinned happily, watching his gaze settle on her backside. "Maybe I'll have to keep my voice down if you're good enough." She spun, winked, and blew Jarvan a kiss. A small fiery heart billowed out towards the prince, popping just before his face, causing him to start. Shyvana chuckled softly as she disappeared through the flaps of their tent.

Jarvan stood staring after her. He finally shook his head, grinning softly. "I swear I'm going to kill both Del and June for teaching her these things." The prince's smile grew slightly. "If Shyvana doesn't kill me first."

He chuckled to himself as he hurried off after her.


	11. Chapter 9: Morning

The following morning came early with a heavy fog that settled deep in the Odyn Valley, casting a veil of spectral white upon the town and the many sleepy encampments, leaving a heavy dew and a numbing chill across the entire region.

Jarvan woke when he heard the rustle of the tent around him, slowly sitting up, his hand jumping to the blade that was supposed to be under the pillow. His hand groped about for the blade for several moments but he could only feel the soft warmth of the blankets and pillows around him. The tent was still dark, only thin shafts of white light descended into the tent from the corners and the flaps leading into the common room illuminated the dim scene around him. He glanced over the edge of the bed and then slowly looked about. Segments of armored plating and various pieces of armor lay all over the ground, cast aside in the night's chill as Jarvan and his companion had sought the warmth of each other's embrace. Jarvan saw the glimmer of a long, slender knife sitting on the camp table next to his head and breathed a sigh of relief; even in his hurry to let himself get lost in the comfort of Shyvana's embrace, he had thought to prepare himself. His hand slid around the cool steel, the dragon's head hilt resting easily in his palm as he slid it under the edge of the blanket, dropping gently back onto the bed. The warm lump of naked dragoness stirred only slightly next to him, her sleek back pressed firmly against his side.

There was a rustle of sound that emanated from the adjoining room of the tent. Shyvana stirred again, but this time she shifted, turning towards the prince, wrapping an arm possessively over his chest as she slid up against him, her head resting against his shoulder. He looked down at her and nodded. Glowing orange eyes looked back up at him in the dim morning light, glimmering like two candles' flame. Shyvana's skin carried a bluish hue to it, creeping up along her cheeks and darkening around her eyes as she looked up at the prince, though her cheeks were tinged pink even against the draconian color still creeping along her skin.

"Who would come to call so early?" Shyvana spoke almost inaudibly, a small frown crossing her face. She looked down over the bottom of the bed and saw the flaps shift slightly. Jarvan pressed a single finger to his lips and shook his head slightly. He flashed the hilt of the blade under the sheets for Shyvana to see and she nodded. Jarvan watched her skin start to deepen in color, turning from a pale white to a warm grey, and then a darker greyish-blue, almost the color of slate. Her hands formed into long claws, her fingernails sharpening to something far more twisted and wicked than Jarvan knew them to normally look or feel.

Delancey stuck her head through the flaps, grinning cheekily. "You awake, sir?" There was a playful tone that made it sound as if the woman had not expected him to be awake and she had been hoping to find him asleep or possibly twisted into a more compromising position. She grinned wider as she looked around the messy state the room was in, turning to grin wryly at Shyvana. "Tough night, eh?"

Jarvan sighed as Shyvana blushed and glanced down at herself before ducking under the blanket. "What do you want, Del?" Jarvan growled, sliding the knife back into its sheath and depositing it back on the table next to him. "You have three seconds to explain before I pick you up and toss you from the tent myself."

"What, you going to whack me with your hammer there?" Delancey said with a cheeky grin. "I was on guard duty, and it sounded like you were torturing Shyvana in here last night…"

"Three." Jarvan began, growling again.

"It wasn't that loud… was it?" Shyvana asked, blushing furiously at the thought of her voice carrying around the encampment.

"Nah." Delancey laughed, grinning imperiously at Shyvana. "I could only hear it cause I was standing right outside on guard duty, though I'm pretty sure Forsythe was uncomfortable listening to it."

"Two." Jarvan continued growling.

"That's a relief." Shyvana murmured, shaking her head, tugging her braid over her shoulder and tugging on it gently as she sighed in relief. "That would have been mortifying…"

"Yeah, usually Forsythe covers my mouth or I bite a pillow or something." Delancey said, nodding to herself. Shyvana's face turned from a pale grey to a brilliant scarlet.

"Okay, fuck this. Where are my god damn pants?" Jarvan growled, groping around, looking for something to wear while he forcibly ejected Delancey from the room. A smile spread over Delancey's face as she bent down and retrieved a pair of pants from the ground. She tossed them to the prince who scowled at her as he swept his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, hissing against the chill of the room. He glanced at Delancey and started to dress, ignoring the Sergeant who had turned pink in the face. "What do you want, Del? Soon as I get dressed, I'm tossing you out the door." Jarvan grumbled as he strung a sword belt through the beltloops of his pants around his waist and dropped onto the bed to pull on a pair of soft leather boots. He kicked one of his armored shoulder plates aside as he turned and bent down, fishing a duffel bag out from under the edge of the bed, pulling it out and setting it down next to the dragoness. He pulled out two tunics of his, tossing one to the dragoness before tugging his own over his head. "You can wear that till you get dressed." Jarvan said, shaking slightly, letting the shirt settle on his chest. He looked to the sergeant who was now staring at the prince. Jarvan frowned, looking at her with a cross expression. "See something new and different?" Jarvan growled turning on her as he adjusted the sword on his belt. Satisfied with the position, he turned his glare on the sergeant and posted his fists on his hips. "Well, Del? Snap out of it."

"Sorry." Del murmured, slightly subdued, shaking her head as she stood up straight, a slightly more grave expression on her face. "That burn on your back, sir…" She glanced at Shyvana. "That wasn't… _you_ , was it?"

Shyvana shook her head solemnly as she sat up straight and looked to the prince, meeting his gaze. Jarvan looked into her bright magenta eyes and simply nodded before dropping onto the edge of the bed and started rummaging about in his bag again before tossing the soft leather boots onto the ground. Jarvan grabbed one of the boots and began struggling to get his feet in, tugging at the creamy leather than rose to mid shin. Shyvana turned to Delancy, looking down to the ground for a brief moment before lifting her chin and pointing to the right side of her own neck. "I'm responsible for the set of three on his neck. It's not something I am proud to admit."

"Oh…" Delancey muttered softly, concern washing over her face. "Then who gave you that burn, Jarvan?"

"A dragon named Kampf." Jarvan growled, anger lacing his voice as he admired his dragon's head dagger, sliding it into his boot. "The same monster left a set of scars similar to these on Shyvana's side." The prince raised his chin and pointed to the feathery tips of three rather gruesome looking scars that rose over his collar, ending high on his neck. Delancey hissed softly, turning to Shyvana who had pulled a pair of pants on and was busy tucking the tunic Jarvan had given her into her belt. She paused and then lifted her shirt up so the sergeant could see the scars upon the dragoness's side. They had faded with time, but they were still visible, along with the marks where Jarvan had stitched her up.

Delancey hissed as she cringed, looking at the wound as she recoiled slightly. "That looks bad…"

"I don't know if I would have survived if it hadn't been for Jarvan tending to it so well." Shyvana said, shaking her head and blushing slightly. She glanced about before ducking under the edge of the bed, pulling out a duffel of her own. She open it and pulled out a jumper, tugging it over her head and then pulling her braid over her shoulder. The sweater was just slightly too large for her as she tugged the sleeves up so she could use her hands unencumbered. She broke into a yawn, stretching her back out and raising her arms above her head in a toe curling gesture, bearing long fangs for those who had been watching. She caught Jarvan giving her a lopsided grin, his black hair falling messily behind him. She blushed slightly as she looked back at him, glowing in the cheeks.

"Alright, love birds, enough." Delancey said, shaking her head, pushing Jarvan and Shyvana towards the door and out of the tent. "Let's get you both fed and watered and then you can go get ready for the rest of the day."

"What's the hurry Del?" Shyvana asked, a thin smile resting on her lips as she looked over at Jarvan with a grin before giggling at Delancey.

"It's definitely not that late in the morning." Jarvan muttered, brushing the tent flaps over his head, holding it back as Shyvana and Delancey ducked underneath. He looked around the camp, only distant, grey-cast tent structures to ward off the odd feeling that Jarvan had been here before. He frowned slightly looking around, pulling his sweater down over his arms as he shivered against the cold, damp air.

"It's nearly eight." Delancey said, looking about, shrugging as she frowned and then waved them towards the mess tent. "The fog settles thick here in the valley, though according to the troops that are stationed here, it should clear up around noon or so. Captain Crownguard indicated he'd be back around eleven or so to show you around, so you've got time for a nice leisurely breakfast so you can build your energy back up." There was a playful grin on the sergeant's face as she laughed at Jarvan's scowl and Shyvana's blushed cheeks. "Ah, cheer up, Cap. You'll have a easy morning but you'll have a lot of ground to cover later on, so you really should eat well, you'll need the energy."

"Yeah, yeah." Jarvan sighed, his boots now damp with dew, the chill spreading slowly up through his legs. _I'd have rather skipped breakfast and just stayed in bed with Shyvana for a few more hours._ He glanced over at the dragoness and remembered just how warm it was to curl up with her. Jarvan felt his cheeks grow hot as he forced himself to look away. Shyvana glanced over and noticed, reaching out and sliding her hand into his. He laced his finger into hers and then glanced over, giving her a crooked grin that brought a gorgeous smile to her lips. Jarvan blushed harder, breaking into a beaming smile of his own.

"What's with you two?" Delancey muttered, frowning as she walked backwards, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared back and forth between Jarvan and Shyvana. "This isn't your honeymoon, you know…"

"Let them have their moment." A strong voice said as they neared the entrance to the mess tent. Forsythe was waiting, fully geared up, his sword resting across his shoulders, a short sword hanging on his belt and a shield on his arm. Jarvan noted that all of the normal bulges and protrusions on the young corporal's armor were there, indicating he was loaded for bear. There was a smile on his lips, but Jarvan looked into his eyes and noted that they were hard and tense.

 _He expects trouble._ Jarvan frowned as he extended a hand, letting the corporal take it and squeeze it firmly. His hand went back to the sword resting on his hip as he glanced about the misty clearing. "You look like we're about to go to war, Forse." Jarvan said, a thin smile working onto his lips. "What's the occasion?"

"I don't like the setting, boss." Forsythe growled. "It feels far too open to me. Nowhere to run to if things get bad." He tapped an armored boot on the ground, water from the dew dripping off the armored plating. His entire form clanked and rattled.

"With as much noise as you make, Forsythe, I would be more worried about someone sneaking up behind you than an entire army bearing down on you." Shyvana giggled. The corporal blinked several times and then scowled, shaking his head.

"That's funny." He said, forcing a cocky grin onto his face. "Judging by all the noise you made last night I think-…"

"Easy, Corporal." Delancey said, grinning cheekily. Both Jarvan and Shyvana were wearing scowls at they looked at him. "I think the prince and princess are hungry, so why don't you let them get their food before you start heckling them too much." As if on cue, Shyvana's stomach rumbled and she blushed slightly. That managed to break the annoyance in Forsythe's expression and he sighed, shaking his head.

"Go on, in. The cooks are waiting for you." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder and stepped aside.

"You want to join us?" Jarvan asked, gesturing into the tent.

The corporal shook his head. "I'm on duty, sir, but thank you."

Jarvan nodded, frowning slightly but went into the tent, and suddenly having the smells of grilled potatoes, fried meats and the delicious, delicious scent of coffee all hit him at once, he realized just how hungry he was. Jarvan's stomach rumbled and he blushed slightly as he glanced over at Shyvana. Her nose was lifted to the air as she sniffed, salivating as a smile spread over her face. Jarvan chuckled and let Delancey guide them to a table set aside for the royalty where he dropped into the seat, his smile spreading as a waiter approached the table carrying a number of mugs. He set down saucers and mugs in front of both Shyvana and the Prince and turned to Delancey, who nodded before he even had a chance to ask. He set down a third, depositing sugar and cream in front of them in small containers. He disappeared only to quickly return with a heavy pot of coffee, steam rising out of the spout. He poured cups for the three of them, deposited what appeared to be an insulated mat on the table leaving the pot there for them to refill their cups with. Jarvan lifted the cup to his face and let the steam caress his features for several long moments, closing his eyes, simply breathing it in.

"Bless you." Jarvan said, sighing contently after taking a sip. "It's bloody perfect."

"Thank you, sire." The waiter said with a smile, bowing his head. "We had it brewed hot and strong enough to dissolve glass, as per Miss Halsington's instructions."

There was a look of surprise on the prince's face. "Noel's responsible for this?" Shyvana giggled at the surprised look on the prince's face as it slowly turned into a wide grin. Jarvan shook his head and chuckled softly. "Remind me to give her a present of something when we return." Jarvan murmured to Shyvana.

"She knows exactly what you like, doesn't she?" Shyvana mused, grinning.

"She also suggested we keep chocolate chip cookie dough on hand at all time, Madame." The waiter said with a thin, knowing smile. Jarvan and Delancey both laughed aloud as color flooded the dragoness's cheeks. Jarvan felt a wave of heat issue off of the dragoness as she stared down into her mug. The waiter smiled at the assembled group and then turned to face Jarvan. "What can I get for you this morning, your highness?" The waiter asked.

Jarvan glanced over at Shyvana who was now nursing the cup of coffee in front of her, dropping spoon after spoon of sugar into her mug. Jarvan lost count at seven, but giggled when the cup nearly overflowed from the cream. She sipped at it gingerly before she could lift it up. Jarvan took the proffered spoon and put a single spoon of sugar into his cup before stirring it up. "Hmm, leftover strider steak if you've got any from last night." Jarvan said, watching as Shyvana's ears wiggled, her eyes widening slightly as she looked up at him. "Eggs, potatoes, tomatoes, toast?" Shyvana nodded, again salivating visibly. Delancey snickered and Shyvana blushed slightly, using the sleeve of her jumper to wipe away the drool. "For both of us." Jarvan gestured to Shyvana and himself.

"Of course, sire. All of the trimmings?" The waiter bowed his head at the prince. Jarvan considered for a moment and then shrugged and nodded. "Very good, sir." He turned and looked to Delancey. "And for you, sergeant? Could I interest you in some biscuits or perhaps a scone?"

Delancey looked down at the coffee as if to decline, but then paused, biting her lip. "Any of the blueberry scones left from earlier?"

"I'll check." The waiter said, bowing his head, turning and sweeping away from the table. Jarvan sipped at his cup, exhaling slowly, letting the coffee flow through him, stretching and flowing through every inch of his body, spreading the warmth he felt and chasing away the weariness he felt.

"Ahhh…" Jarvan sighed, lowering the cup back down after draining it. "I feel like a new man."

"Drink deep and eat hearty, sir." Delancey said, nodding slowly. She grabbed the pot and poured the prince a second cup.

"You seem worried too, Del." Jarvan said, wrapping his hands around the barrel of his mug, holding it close as he looked at the dragoness with a thin smile and then back to Delancey. "What's gotten to you two?"

"Sir…" Delancey murmured, frowning as she looked into the murky brown depths of her own mug. Jarvan spooned some sugar into his mug and looked at her expectantly. "Forsythe and I both are worried about what we found on our way here. And pardon my intrusion into your business sire, but it doesn't seem like you're terribly worried considering the rather dire circumstances we had been in only recently…"

Jarvan's face fell slightly as he looked down into his mug as the spoon clinked about inside as he stirred. He finally paused, tapping the spoon on the edge of the mug before setting it onto the saucer, simply letting the steam caress his face. "Do not let my relaxed attitude be confused for a lack of concern." He shook his head, letting a somber mask fall over his face. "I hate to admit it but I've been trying to cleanse my mind of the horrors and biases I've witnessed in the past few days so I could better approach the problem. It may sound lazy or cold or like I'm not taking it seriously, but I'm trying to do this so as not to let my anger cloud my judgement." Jarvan paused for several moments, still staring into the coffee. Shyvana slid a hand onto his and he let it slide into his palm. He offered her a small but thankful smile. "My father's words from two days ago stuck with me and got me to thinking. I'm not a boy anymore. I can't go charging off and throwing about accusations blindly. If I want to see justice done without wasting any further life, I have to do this properly the first time, and if I run in without being calm and collected… well, people will die because I screwed up again. I've let too much Demacian blood be spilled on account of my stupidity and brashness."

Jarvan balled his free hand up and dropped it on the table angrily. Delancey had seen it coming, and had lifted the pot of coffee up so only the silverware clattered and a bit of the cream sloshed over the edge of the serving dish.

"I didn't mean it as an knock against your honor, sire." Delancey said hesitantly as she lowered the coffee pot back down onto the table. Jarvan turned and looked at her with a cross expression, but he hung his head, glowering after a few moment.

"I know, Del." Jarvan said tiredly, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to take it out on you."

At that moment, the waiter swept forward carrying two large plates loaded with food. Shyvana accepted hers without word and quickly tucked herself into the plate, but Jarvan simply accepted his and set it in front of him, frowning as he looked over the contents. Steak, eggs, grilled potatoes, grilled tomatoes and mushrooms, and toast. Part of Jarvan knew he was ravenous, but part of him was just lost at the moment, his anger still bubbling near the surface as he thought about his actions. Looking back, he felt pretty foolish about what he had done, treating the situation like a vacation for him and Shyvana rather than a mission where he had a job to do. He felt something warm curl around his fist and he looked over to see that Shyvana had wrapped her hand around his, her fork lying idle on her plate.

Jarvan took a deep breath and loosened his hand, letting Shyvana slide her fingers into hers, lacing them together. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and offered him a soft, almost shameful smile. It looked as if she had come to a similar feeling of guilt as the prince. "We might have messed up, but that's no reason to punish yourself." Shyvana said softly, leaning against the prince for a brief moment. "My father had a motto of sorts he lived by: Ever tried? Ever Failed? No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better. We will survive regardless, Jarvan, and next time when we failed together, we fail better. Anything else isn't nearly so important." Jarvan's frustrated look did not fade, but Shyvana gave his hand another squeeze. "You should eat, Jarvan. Being hungry will not make anything better. Eat, eat!" Shyvana urged, gesturing to the food.

"Right." Jarvan nodded, finally using his fork and knife to cut away a morsel of steak, which he examined for several long moments before putting it into his mouth, chewing slowly.

The meal progressed fairly slowly from that point, most of it passing in silence, only the clink and clatter of silverware on plates and mugs on saucers breaking the silence. Every once in a while a soldier would come or go, proceeding to the chow line for enlisted men to grab a plate of food. Officers came and went more lazily, often wandering in with thick folders of documents to review and examine while sipping coffee and munching on whatever they desired. Shyvana had cleaned her plate quickly and the waiter returned not long after she had finished with a second plate of food for her, which she accepted with a blush and a muted thanks. Delancey had chided her about eating too much but when Shyvana blew flames at her and the sergeant had nearly tumbled out of her seat in surprise, she had decided it was no longer worth teasing the dragoness.

"Prince Jarvan!" The hail from the doorway came as a shock to the prince, bringing his head up from where he had been brooding. He glanced down at his plate and frowned, shaking his head. He'd only eaten half the food, pushing the rest around the plate absentmindedly. He sighed softly and pushed himself up to his feet, shifting his sword about on his belt till it rested comfortably on the back of his right hip. Shyvana had risen to her feet as well, tugging the braid over her shoulder as she hung the dragon's head shield and manifer onto her belt using the clips that she had been given by Poppy when she wasn't in either of the suits of armor custom made for the dragoness. Delancey as well had risen to her feet and while she looked slightly scorned, the corners of her mouth were slightly upturned as he took a deep breath and looked from Shyvana to the prince. Jarvan stepped out into the dim morning light and noted quickly that the grey light had lightened slightly in the sky above, though it was still fully overcast. Some of the fog had faded as well, giving Jarvan a bit better view of the camp around him. Blue and Gold standards lay dormant in the lazy morning air, some showing the lions head coat of arms, other showing the small wing-like symbol of the Demacian Nation.

Outside, Jarvan recognized the heavy armor and blue scarf of his childhood friend almost immediately. The second set of golden armor decorated with crimson froze him for a few seconds as he took in the massive wings and thought he had come face to face with some sort of giant armored bird, but as the armored figure lifted a helmet from their head and golden blonde hair spilled out, the realization struck Jarvan what, rather _who_ , he was looking at before him.

"Judicator Kayle." Jarvan said with a thin smile spreading over his face. "A pleasure to see you again." He extended his hand to the winged being and shook her hand briefly as she tucked her helmet under her left arm and offered him a small smile. Her ethereal blue eyes glowed a nearly electric blue, but as Jarvan met her gaze he could see that they were tired and worn weary.

"It comforts me to find you in good health, your highness." Kayle said with a bow of her golden haired head. "I hope this visit finds you and your company well?" Her eyes strayed to Shyvana for several long moments before passing to Delancey and then Forsythe who stood back, their hands hovering on their weapons. The prince looked back to Shyvana, but she didn't share the other two's discomfort in her stance, though she wore a slightly conflicted expression as if she were trying to make a decision about something. Jarvan frowned as he noticed this, but before he could open his mouth to ask what they were so uptight about, a familiar flash of red hair caught his eye.

Katarina Du Couteau stood with her arms uncomfortably crossed over her chest as she looked about, the unease easy to read in her shoulders. She stood beside Garen, hovering close to him, far closer than any other Demacian seemed willing to let her approach. There was another man that Jarvan didn't recognize. He had a thin, wearily pale face and a frail, ancient looking form, though there was energy sparkling in his dark, deeply set eyes. His hands rested folded over the top of a walking stick that rose to mid-chest height, a large glowing purple jewel set deep in the top of the cane. Jarvan tried to remember the briefing given by Colonel Aaregard from the evening previous, but while he did recognize the man, he couldn't recall the man's name.

"Please allow me to introduce Council of Equity spokesman, Rovis Samadon." Kayle said, gesturing to the man, who stepped forward and bowed his head towards the prince.

"Greetings, Prince Jarvan." The man said with a surprisingly firm voice. There was power in his deep tone that was surprising considering his frail appearance that betrayed no age or weariness. The man was no doubt an impressive orator. "Your reputation precedes you."

Jarvan was extending his hand towards the man to shake his hand, but it faltered slightly at the comment. He let a thin smile slide onto his face, tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You'll forgive me if I ask to which reputation you are referring, spokesman. I have several, though not all of them are good."

The man chuckled softly, wheezing slightly as he wiped a tear from his eye. "Your sense of humor is obviously something that is not as well known, but I appreciate your honesty, young man. We could use more of that in the upcoming generations who will soon be inheriting the responsibilities of Valoran." He nodded to himself, a smile decorated his wrinkled face. "Your experience with the more worldly aspects of our great continent was to what I was referring, your highness, though I am aware of some of the other reputations you carry." He chuckled softly again, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as his gaze turned towards Jarvan's companion. "Please allow me to extend both my and the Institutes regards in welcoming you to Kalamanda. I hope with you and your father's help we can reach an equitable resolution here in Kalamanda without conflict."

"Ah." Jarvan let his smile remain, though it grew slightly tight lipped. He bowed his head in thanks. "Let me return my thanks to you and the Institute's extension of their considerable resources in the resolution of our own problems, as well as your moderation of this event. The Judicator has been of considerable assistance to my own investigations, as well as being of considerable assistance to Captain Crownguard's efforts."

"Of course, of course." The spokesman said with a twinkling smile. "The Judicator here has been a boon to our efforts and pursuit of peace."

The Judicator nodded her head in thanks and smiled. "Your words are too kind."

"Nonsense!" The spokesman chuckled. "You're always working your hardest for peace, mediating and guiding the people of Valoran towards a lasting peace and a higher understanding of our many different peoples."

"Of course." Kayle said, though something dangerous flashed in her ethereal blue eyes. Jarvan caught this as he watched her expression remain placid. "Ah, pardon my rudeness." Kayle said, turning slightly and gesturing towards the red-haired woman who stood to Garen's left. "May I introduce Mistress Katarina Du Couteau of Noxus. She's serving as the leading delegate for the Noxian Empire in the ongoing mediations within the Institute. I do not believe you have met, before." Again, something dangerous flashed in Kayle's electric blue eyes, but this time it was directed at Jarvan and Shyvana. Jarvan smiled, nodding his head, noticing Garen had stiffened slightly, standing up slightly straighter.

"I have never had the pleasure, no." His voice was tight, but not altogether unpleasant as he extended his hand towards the red-haired Noxian. Katarina's emerald green eyes sparkled dangerously as they came up and met Jarvan's. She smiled as she accepted the prince's hand and shook it curtly.

"The pleasure is _all_ mine." Katarina purred softly. "Garen speaks very highly of you, prince. I hope you are as capable as he has indicated." Jarvan glanced at the knight, shooting his a slightly quizzical look, but Garen's expression remained impassive. A cool, almost antagonistic smile slid onto the Noxian's face as her eyes danced towards the dragoness. "And who might this be?"

"Ah, excuse me for not introducing my subordinates." Jarvan said narrowing his eyes at the Noxian. She shot him a smirk back.

"This is Corporal Ellington Forsythe and Sergeant Vivian Delancey," Jarvan said, indicating Forsythe and Delancey in turn. "And this is my bodyguard, Shyvana von Faust."

Shyvana bowed her head to the delegation, though her eyes were hovering on Katarina. The Noxian shot her a grin and Shyvana forced herself to look away, instead turning towards the spokesman. She blushed slightly, finding him staring at her with a slightly perplexed expression on his face. She met his gaze and his eyes widened slightly.

"Faust…" He murmured slightly, his voice quiet as if he were searching for something in his mind he had lost long ago. "I know that name from somewhere."

"He was my father, sir." Shyvana said evenly, her eyes turning back to the spokesman.

His eyes widened slightly in disbelief. "Does that mean… Faust was a dragon. You, young lady, does that mean you are…"

"Yes, I am half-dragon." Shyvana said evenly, her eyes watching the man with a slightly reserved expression, as if she didn't know how he might react to the news.

"Oh how marvelous." His dark eyes sparkled with amazement. "You're a half-dragon? How fascinating."

"F-fascinating?" Shyvana said, blinking slightly and blushing. "Uhm… uh… thank you?" She said nervously.

"I take it your mother was human than?" The spokesman said excitedly, taking a step forward, peering into Shyvana's eyes as if he were looking for something. "Faust was a draconian scholar of sorts if my memory serves me. I spoke with him on several occasions when my compatriots and I were trying to assemble what we could regarding the ancient histories of Valoran. Is he well? I would very much like to speak to him again if I could…"

"He… ah, well, he died." Shyvana said softly, looking to the ground. Jarvan watched as her hands formed into fists, feeling a wave of warmth spill over her body, billowing her crimson hair slightly. "Last year, he was killed by another dragon."

"Oh." The spokesman voice was muted and he didn't bother hiding his disappointment. He noticed the young dragoness's discomfort after several moments and cleared his throat, realizing his mistake. "Please allow me to extend my most heartfelt condolences, young one. Your father was a great ma-… ah, dragon." A thin smile formed on his fn ace. "He was a great help in our efforts in trying to assemble a semblance of understanding of our history here on Valoran. Without his efforts, we would know next to nothing. He shall be missed."

Shyvana blushed slightly but bowed her head. "Thank you. I'm sure he would have been pleased to know his knowledge was so greatly appreciated by humans."

Kayle cleared her throat, causing the old man to start. He glanced over and then a look of surprise slid onto his face as he clapped a hand atop his other on the end of his cane. "Ah, pardon the fascinations of an old man, I'd completely forgotten why we came in the first place."

"It is no problem, spokesman." Jarvan said, his gaze drifting back to Shyvana. She didn't look as glum as he might have expected, but there wasn't a happy expression on her face either.

"I came today with the intent to extend a request of the Institute of War upon resolution of the granting of the mining contract here in Kalamanda." The spokesman said, his chin rising slightly as he looked up at the prince. "As you know, one of the many responsibilities taken on by the Institute of War is the governance and management of nexuses of powerful natural magical energy. Two such nexuses exist here in Kalamanda." The man gestured over his shoulder towards the town. There was a dull blue glow emanating from the spiked peak of a bobbing crystalline structure that was obscured somewhere beyond the Demacian camp's main entrance.

"We were briefed on their presence, yes." Jarvan said matter-of-factly, though there was a frown on his face. "But if you'll forgive my own ignorance, I would like to know why these nexuses are so important, spokesman."

"Of course, of course." The man said, nodding his head slowly. "A nexus is a powerful, naturally occurring concentration of magical energy within Valoran. Their default form comes in the state of concentrated, crystallized energy, which can either be harvested and used as an energy source or harnessed to enhance or augment magical abilities." His eyes darkened slightly. "In the past, these nexuses were highly sought after as weapons of war. Their raw, incredible power allowed for magic of untold devastation to be harnessed and unleashed by those who controlled the nexus." He paused to let the grave severity of his information sink in. "Because of their terrifying power, the Institute of War has sought control of those that still exist in Valoran, and those new nexuses that appear, so they can be regulated and harnessed for progressive ideas such as energy generation and research."

"I see…" Jarvan mused softly, his eyes straying to the bobbing crystal in the distance. _Maybe these nexuses are part of the plot?_

"Yes, they are both powerful and dangerous." Spokesman Samadon said, nodding his head. "It is because of this that I've come to you today. I have been charged with requesting that if a faction is awarded the mining contract, and with that the rights to the lands here, including the nexuses, that the rights and lands directly surrounding the Nexuses be granted to the Institute of War for regulation and safekeeping." He paused, watching the prince's expression. "While Captain Crownguard has informed me that the King is indisposed at the moment, he indicated that you can carry my request to him when he is available. Can I request you represent my will and the intentions of the Institution of War to him? Will Demacia pledge to honor this agreement?"

Jarvan set his jaw slightly, again looking to the Nexus distant, frowning slightly. "While I cannot speak with my father's authority, I shall carry this request to him personally. I understand the danger of these nexuses and I promise I shall see to it that my father understands the gravity of the League's interest in controlling and supervising their usage."

"Thank you, your highness." The spokesman said, bowing his head. "I appreciate your understanding and wisdom."

"Of course." Jarvan said, nodding. "I take it Noxus had agreed to the terms of this proposition already?"

Katarina looked over, raising her chin slightly so she could look down her nose at the prince. "We have already pledged our agreement with the Institute of War, yes. We Noxians are all for continuing the peace, despite our reputation."

"Very well." Jarvan said firmly, nodding his head. "I'll convey the Institute's desires to my father, and express the existing Noxian support. I think he will be in support of the proposition, Spokesman Samadon."

"Very good." The spokesman said with a nod of the head. "Captain, Lady Judicator, perhaps we should move on towards the Piltovan Encampment next?"

"Of course." Garen said sternly. He turned to Jarvan. "I shall return before too long to conduct you on your tour, sire."

"Thank you." Jarvan said, nodding as his gaze drifted back and forth between the spokesman, the Judicator and the Noxian representative. "I shall be ready when you return, and I shall speak with my father if he is able in the mean time." Jarvan said, nodding to the spokesman.

"Very good." Spokesman Samadon said with a glowing smile. He turned towards the dragoness, his eyes sparkling excitedly. "Miss Shyvana, if you don't mind, I would like to pick your brain at some point regarding some questions I had hoped to have the opportunity to ask your father, once upon a time. I would like to think that he might have imparted the knowledge I desire upon you before his passing."

Shyvana looked surprised, but she nodded after a the initial shock passed. "Yes, of course." She frowned slightly. "Though I don't know how much I will be of assistance, I will gladly listen to your questions and answer to the best of my ability."

"That is all I ask." Spokesman Samadon said, smiling at the dragoness. "Thank you, my lady dragon." Shyvana nodded back, blushing at the title he had addressed her with.

The spokesman turned to the Judicator and Garen beyond her. "Shall we?"

"Yes, sir." Kayle said tacitly. "Until we cross paths again, Prince Jarvan, Miss Shyvana." The golden-blonde-haired woman nodded her head deeply, though her gaze rested on Jarvan long enough for their eyes to meet. The azure orbs flashed dangerously, and Jarvan realized he would likely be running into the woman far sooner than her words would imply. She returned the helmet to her head, the crimson plume billowing above her.

Jarvan and Shyvana watched the procession retreat back out of the encampment, leaving them alone with Delancey and Forsythe.

"Well, that was interesting…" Delancey remarked with a smirk. "An angel, a Noxian, a Demacian, and an old man walk into a bar…"

"Stow it, Del." Jarvan muttered, shaking his head. "I don't even want to know where you're going with this one." The sergeant's frown faded as she giggled softly and nodded, exchanging a glance with the corporal. Forsythe's grimace remained and he turned to look at Jarvan. The prince noticed and he met the corporal's gaze. "Got something to say, Forse?" Jarvan asked evenly, not letting menace slide into his voice. "Speak your mind."

"Do you think it wise to trust the Noxian's word?" Forsythe asked with a frown. "We have no guarantee that the Noxians will actually honor their _supposed_ promise." There was loathing in his voice as he refused to even speak Katarina's name.

"You have a point." Jarvan muttered, frowning slightly, but he set his jaw, looking squarely at the corporal. "However, when it comes to trust, you have to be the first to take the leap or no one will follow. By taking said leap and choosing to support the Equity Spokesman's request, it shows the Noxians that we have every intent of supporting the Institute's proposition. Even if they didn't support it before, they must now remain true to their word or lose standing in the eyes of both the Institute and the rest of Valoran."

"I see." Forsythe grunted thoughtfully, his smile fading slightly.

"Besides, what use would Katarina have for lying to us?" Shyvana suggested. "Even if they had the intent of doing something nefarious, it would likely only serve to unite all of their foes under a single banner." She paused, thinking for a moment. "And it would likely sway those who were on the fence about what camp they would align with to the opposite side."

Jarvan grinned and nodded, pointing at the dragoness. "Shy's got the point." He chuckled softly when the dragoness blushed, glancing down, though a smile started to show on her face. Jarvan let his smile fade slightly as he took a deep breath, letting his mind settle slightly as he turned about, looking back at Delancey. "Do you know where my father is?"

"Last I checked, the king was reviewing supply information and exhaustive intelligence reports in his quarters before the rescue operations resume this afternoon." Delancey said, frowning slightly. "I heard something about letting the ground dry out before they resumed. Shall I see if he is available to meet with you?"

"Alright." Jarvan said, nodding thoughtfully. "Shyvana and I still need to get our armor on and prepared for the rest of the day…" Jarvan voice trailed off as he glanced up at the sky and frowned.

Forsythe noticed and fished a pocket watch out, taking a glance at it. "It's just after ten, Jarvan."

Jarvan nodded, absentmindedly. "Thanks, Forsythe. Garen should be back between eleven and noon at a guess…" His voice trailed off as the prince scratched at the stubble on his chin. "Del, ask father if he's available at 11."

"Yes, sir." Delancey said, nodding her head and saluting. She froze after a few strides, turning to look back at the prince and dragoness. "Just don't be late, Jarvan. I don't want to have to explain to the King that his son is late because you and Shy are too busy fu-…"

"Del!" Jarvan snapped, his cheeks pink. He snuck a glance at Shyvana and while her face was crimson, partially hidden behind her red hair, she was also smiling almost dreamily at the thought. Forsythe's laughter boomed through the assembly area.

Jarvan's shoulders slumped as he sighed, running a hand over his face.


	12. Chapter 10: Ambitions

The king's tent was far larger and far grander that the tent Jarvan shared with Shyvana. While it had all of the same facilities, it was simply bigger in every aspect. The first room that the prince and the dragoness stepped into was a massive receiving hall, a large throne opposite the entrance, sitting at the end of a long blue and gold carpet. It sat raised upon a platform, a foot over the rest of the room, and above it long banners showing the royal coat of arms sat idle, their gleaming golden decorations shining a warm, glimmering golden orange against the soft candle light that lit the room. Along either side of the long carpet were two fireplaces, set in stone, with spits raised above them, the charcoal remnants of a fire from a night previous still smoldered in the stone fire pits. Beyond the hearths were two massive tables, one per side, each of heavy wood, benches adorned with gold and blue covers below them on each side. Candelabras were scattered through the room, lighting the recreation of the main Demacian reception hall with a soft golden hue.

"Your highness." Some sort of assistant to the king stood near the front of the entrance hall, and he bowed to Jarvan as he slowly started down the carpet, taking in the opulence. Shyvana was at his side, and like the prince, she couldn't keep her amazement at the decadence and décor hidden as she glanced about, her mouth hanging ajar. Jarvan turned back and acknowledged the messenger with a nod of his head. "The king will be finished shortly and has asked you wait here till he is ready. Is this acceptable to you?"

Jarvan frowned slightly, but nodded his head. "Of course. Please convey the importance of my message to the king."

"At once, your highness." The man bowed a second time and then scurried away into the depths of the tent.

"This place is gargantuan." Jarvan muttered to Shyvana, turning in place as he took in the sheer size of the tent.

"It's bigger than most caves father and I stayed in when I was younger." Shyvana said, looking up into the rafters, where six monstrous poles stood supporting the tent. Each looked as if it had been a full tree at some point, though they had been stripped and polished to a high sheen. Shyvana reached her arms out and glanced along both, a small smile sliding onto her face. "It looks like it'd be big enough for me to transform and even have room to stretch my wings out." She chuckled softly. "To think that humans have made tents so large…"

Jarvan glanced down at her, catching her gaze as he grinned crookedly. "Considering everything we've seen humans capable of doing, this is still impressive to you?"

"Even animals are capable of cruelty and destruction." Shyvana said, shaking her head somberly. "Just look at the pain and suffering that Kampf caused. That isn't amazing, that is horrifying."

"Humans are equally capable of atrocity on a large scale." Jarvan said, setting his jaw as he sighed softly.

Shyvana glanced over at him, frowning slightly. "I know that as well." She shivered, her long red braid quivering as she shuddered. "But it has always been man's ability to create that has instilled me with a sense of wonder. It may be a simple everyday thing to you to see things such as this because you're a prince, but this… this scale of creation is always amazing to me."

"That's not what I meant." Jarvan said softly, shaking his head as he looked over at her, struggling with something more to say. "I…" He sought out some sort of words of comfort, but he couldn't find anything. He inhaled softly, sighing. "I'm sorry."

Shyvana took a deep breath as she looked up at the prince, offering him an apologetic smile. "It's fine, Jarvan, it wasn't your fault. Things like this just sometimes give me some perspective on my position."

"What position is that?" Jarvan said, watching the dragoness closely. She glanced around the room, taking in the small details.

"An outsider." Shyvana said softly. "I know you, Delancey, June, Lux and all the others have done your very best to try and welcome me, but it's the small things like this that sometimes make me realize that I'm different." She shook her head, her shoulders falling slightly as she exhaled slowly, shivering.

"Shyvana…" Jarvan said softly, looking down at her.

The dragoness looked up at him and offered him a soft but sad smile. "I-.."

"Oi, getting freaky in the king's tent is probably against some sort of rule." Delancey said cheerfully as she approached the prince and dragoness. Jarvan shot the sergeant a furious glare, watching as she bounced up, Forsythe in tow behind her. She noticed the prince's glare and then watched as she Shyvana turned away and took a deep breath before turning back. Her eyes were red and while she offered the sergeant a smile, Delancey's grin faltered. She stopped a few steps away, glancing from Jarvan to Shyvana. "Uh… Sorry." Delancey said sheepishly. "Did I interrupt something?"

"No." Shyvana said briskly, straightening up slightly. "Jarvan and I were just talking. That's all."

Delancey glanced back and forth between the two of them, but when Forsythe bumped her elbow, she realized that it probably wasn't the right time to say anything more. "Ah… alright." Delancey muttered, frowning slightly. She glanced about, as if searching for something to distract them with, and her eyes fell upon a suit of armor, not too far distant from where they were standing. She bounded towards it, making enough of a show to guarantee that both the prince and the dragoness would be watching. She jerked a thumb in the direction of the armor, smiling cheekily. "It's funny how they can make a damned tent look so much like the palace." Delancey remarked, glancing around the entrance room. She stepped up towards a suit of armor poking at it. "They even brought suits of armor along, just for the effect." Delancey giggled to herself as she leaned forward and made faces in the mirror like gleam of the polished steel.

"That's a guard, Del." Forsythe chuckled, grinning. Delancey frowned disbelievingly at him and then looked back at the suit of armor. The guard, decked out in his full regalia, brought his lance across his chest in a motion so smooth and so fast it almost seemed mechanical. Delancey yelped in surprise, backing away.

"Bloody hell." Delancey muttered after catching her breath, shaking her head. "That scared the tar out of me."

Forsythe barked a sharp laugh. "How did you ever get to be a soldier, much less a sergeant? I don't understand it sometimes."

"I got promoted due to my inexhaustible charm and good looks." Delancey said sweetly, though the look in her eye was hardly saccharin. She glared up at the corporal, finally posting her fists on her hips. "I also used to be able to kill a target without them so much as hearing a single footfall." Despite the light tone of voice, there was a deadly and challenging gleam in the sergeant's eye as she smiled up at the corporal. "Do I need to demonstrate?"

"No thanks." Forsythe said, grinning thinly, raising his hands in surrender. "I already know how good you are with your hands." He winked at Delancey and she blushed furiously, glaring up at him accusingly.

"Shush, you!" Delancey hissed angrily. She froze, glancing over and looking up at the prince. "Uhm…"

"You know, I really didn't need to know that." Jarvan muttered, rolling his eyes. There was a crooked grin forming on his lips as he glanced to Forsythe before looking back to the sergeant. "But it's fun to see you getting served a spoon of your own medicine for once." Forsythe, Shyvana and Jarvan all laughed lightly at the sergeant's expense, and while Delancey looked rueful, she couldn't help but smile at the jovial tone that she had managed to instill upon the prince and dragoness.

"Your highness." A guard finally stepped towards the prince from his position flanking the king's platform. He halted at attention just before the prince, snapping into a crisp salute, holding it rigidly.

Jarvan returned the salute as crisply as he could, looking over the guard. He wore standard Demacian Knight's arms and armor: A cuirass decorated with the Demacian coat of arms, a heavy spaulder on one shoulder and a heavy pauldron on the other, gardbraces, rerebraces, vambraces, and gauntlets covered his arms. Faulds fell over his waist, tasset plates hanging from beneath, covering a heavy pair of chausses that fell around him like a skirt, though his legs were wrapped with heavy greaves and sabatons. However, unlike regular knights, his armor was finer, with a high polish. He had a cloak that fell from his shoulders and a sash that ran from his right hip where a sword hung to his left shoulder, clipped to the gathering of his cloak thrown over one shoulder. There was a pair of single silver bars gleaming on either side of his collar.

Behind him was a mountain of a man with bushy lamb-chop sideburns and thick, quivering jowels. He had finely combed white hair atop his head and a cross expression that spoke of the displeasure he had likely just experienced at the hands of the king. While he was tall, standing on nearly equal footing with the prince, he was nearly as wide as well, with massive arms the size of tree trunks and hands like the head of a spade. He wore a cross expression, his face nearly purple in color. What wasn't purple was a ruddy red, his dark eyes gleaming dangerously. The man came to a stop, facing the prince on equal footing as the guard stepped aside. He wore much more muted armor, simple plate steal over a heavily padded leather jacket, reinforced in places with hardened leather. Chain mail bounced down his thighs and the buckles on his leather boots jingled with every step. Under one arm he had tucked a helmet, though there was a shield with a blue gem set in the center of it that Jarvan recognized from the briefing as the symbol of the Kalamandan constabulary.

"Constable Faldris Velsin." The man growled with a bear-like tone. He saluted awkwardly, though it didn't look like it was meant as a slight or out of laziness, but simply because of the armor and immense muscles on the man's arms. Jarvan returned it crisply and then took the man's outstretched hand. His grip was crushing. "Prince Jarvan, correct?"

"Yes, sir." Jarvan said, nodding his head, keeping an eye on the man. "I trust your meeting went well?"

"It could have gone worse I suppose." The man muttered, his expression fading to somewhere between exhaustion and annoyance.

Jarvan was just beginning to search for a reply for the man, but a second guard stepped forward and turned to the constable. "Please, constable. This way. We will return your arms and you can return to your duties."

The man kept a wary eye on Jarvan but finally nodded after several long, tense moments. "Very well. Keep your wits about ye, prince." He slapped the prince on the shoulder, nearly sending Jarvan crashing to the ground before he strode off after the other guard, leaving Jarvan and his companions in states ranging from laughter in Forsythe's case to awe in Delancey's. Jarvan simply shook his head as he examined what looked like a new dent in his shoulder pauldron.

"Remind me never to run into him in a dark alley." Jarvan muttered.

"He probably could have crushed you into that helmet of his, Jarvan." Forsythe snickered.

"Yeah, and he probably could have thrown you farther than you could run before he cleaned your clock, Forse." Jarvan shot back, shaking his head.

"Your highness." The guard interrupted the prince.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" Jarvan responded, standing up straighter, turning to face the guard.

"The king will see you now, sire." The guardsman bowed his head in the prince's direction before standing up straight. "He requested the presence of your staff, as well. Please, this way." He spun and marched away, heading down the blue and gold carpet before peeling away to the right. Jarvan followed after him, Shyvana, Delancey and Forsythe all trailing behind him.

"-what I'm trying to say is we need to tighten security." A female voice demanded. The tone was cross as the prince and his entourage approached the flapped door, two of the heavily armored guards dragging the heavy canvas flaps back, revealing another smaller room that spread off the main receiving hall. "With the heavy Noxian presence still growing and you and the prince's presence within the encampment, our safety is now woefully inadequate, even with the return of Captain Crownguard's Valor Knights and the addition of Proudmast's rather green Victoria Company-…"

"My company is anything but green." A voice snarled back in a low rumble. Jarvan recognized it as Vorscham's. The guard who had summoned the prince and his followers squeezed past them, an impressive feat considering his heavy armor, leading them along a canvas wall that separated the voices from the entrance way. "We may be newly formed, but nine out of ten of my men are career soldiers and four out of ten are ten year veterans. If anything, Maria, your company pales in comparison to my own."

"Your flippant dismissal of us is also a disservice." The voice was again male, but Jarvan did not immediately recognize it. "Under Captain Crownguard's leadership we're able to respond to attacks with perfect discipline. We're not suited for standing defense, horses and such heavy armor do not make for strong defensive posturing, but if a threat does arise, we are able to respond with deadly force, breaking any attack should it come."

The female voice sighed heavily. "Yes, but-…."

"A moment, Captain." The king said softly, raising a hand to forestall further comment. "We are no longer alone."

Jarvan and his men rounded the corner, stepping into a room filled with opulent, rich blue colors, and shelves filled with books lining the walls of the tent. Chairs filled what little wall space was not covered by the shelves and a massive, heavy wooden table sat in the center of the room. A large map, magically enhanced to show the terrain and the shifting colors of the different factions as they moved through the region, sat upon the table, controlled by a young woman in light armor and court mage's robes. The mage paid the king rapt attention, a long wand floating above the table. Her eyes were closed and her head lowered, her lips moving in a silent whisper. The map flared and then flattened, the glowing, colored portions of the relief slowly descending back into the paper, returning to a simple ink and paper map. The mage opened her eyes, blinking slowly as she looked around, breathing heavily. She raised her hands and caught her wand as it descended before stepping back to the side of the room, standing next to one of the heavily armored guards.

"Welcome, my son." The king said, bowing his head towards the prince. He noticed the others following the prince and then let a thin smile slide onto his face. "And you three as well, welcome. I believe you wanted to speak with me, as per the request my guards carried from your sergeant?" The king nodded to Delancey.

"Of course." The prince said, nodding his head. "If you need a few moments to finish some prior business…"

"No, we were finished already." The king said firmly, glancing at Hawke as if expecting a fight.

Despite the annoyance on her face, Captain Hawke kept her head up as she took a step back from the table. "Of course, sire." She said tersely.

"Sir." Captain Vorscham toned, stepping back clasping his hand at the small of his back.

"Good morning." Alicia said brightly, stepping up towards Shyvana as they both stepped back towards one of the walls. Shyvana frowned slightly as she glanced at Alicia before spreading her feet slightly and crossing her arms over her chest. "Not so good, eh? Want to talk about it?"

"Maybe later." Shyvana said, sighing softly. "It's not a big deal right now."

"You sure?" Alicia asked, setting a hand on the dragoness's shoulder. "I'm sure if you need a moment, we can step outside."

"No, I'm good." Shyvana said firmly.

"Alright." Alicia said softly, glancing over at Shyvana before sighing. "Just let me know if you need to talk."

"So, what do you need to talk about, Jarvan?" The king asked leaning heavily on the table.

"Garen came to call with a small delegation this morning." Jarvan started, spreading his legs slightly, dropping into a stance mirroring Vorscham. "Within this delegation was a representative of the League, one Rovis Samadon."

"Samadon." The king mused quietly, frowning. He turned and shuffled through a stack of folders, finally drawing one out and examining it closely. "Ah, yes. The Council of Equity Spokesman. What did he want, simply to extend his greetings?"

"No, he came on Institute business." Jarvan shook his head. He turned towards the map, leaning over the broad table before tapping two marks. One was just outside the Demacian encampment and the other was just outside the Noxian. "What do you know of the Magical Nexuses that are included in the mining contract?"

"Nexuses?" The king echoed. He frowned thoughtfully. "They're powerful magical concentrations that supposedly form upon the Ley lines of Valoran. There is no real way to determine where one will crop up, but if ancient texts are to be believed, they were where the original bastions of civilization were formed in Valoran." The king turned towards the mage who stood off to the side of the room. "I know there are certain groups of the College of Magic that pursue the study of these nexuses with the support of the Institute. Lady scholar, do you have any insight you might offer?"

"Perhaps, your highness." The mage said softly, stepping forward. "It was not one of my areas of study, but I am aware that there are certain professors that believe the ancient empires, such as Shurima, based their seats of power around said nexuses."

"I see." The king said softly. "What interest does the Institute have in the Nexuses then if they're so powerful and valuable? If they're so interested in them, would it not be easier to simply approach whoever ends up being granted the mining contract?"

"They're taking a preemptive approach it would seem." The prince mused softly. "Samadon came to call with the intent of requesting Demacia's agreement to terms that would guarantee their control and possession of the Nexuses within a small area of Kalamanda."

"To what end does the Institute wish to control them?" Jarvan III asked evenly, turning towards another board that stood around the room. It was a map of all of Valoran, and it showed all of the different areas of control for each of the different factions that now had a play within Kalamanda. There were a number of other colors, chiefly among them being a series of white splotches. The largest of these white shapes was seated squarely between Demacia and Noxus. The king tapped the shape with his index finger. "The Institute is set nearly forty miles north of here. It would not be easy for them to control it with their current strength. They would likely need to at least double the presence, would they not?"

"Just an initial guess…" Vorscham murmured, stepping forward, looking over the map. "But given the large amount of space they would need to maintain control over, given their desire to manage the Nexuses, they would need…" Vorscham's eyes danced over the map for several moments. "Perhaps 1000 men in total? Security forces, research personnel, support staff… It could likely get as high as two thousand if these things are as strong as they want us to believe."

"That would double if not triple the institute's current numbers." The king mused softly. "Could it be a grab for power?"

"It is unknown, father." The prince said shrugging. "However, in my brief talk with the Institute Spokesman, he seemed genuine in his beliefs that it would behoove us to align our efforts with the Institute."

"Explain." The king said tersely, turning to the prince, letting his icy gaze settle on his son.

"I'll do my best to try and convey the weight of the spokesman's words." Jarvan said firmly. "Council Spokesman Samadon came this morning to request something of us upon the finalization of the mining contract here in Kalamanda. He requested control over the nexuses here be granted to the Institute on the grounds that it is their responsibility, as per their established governance and management of powerful magical energies and objects within Valoran. He explained that in the past the nexuses were highly sought after as weapons of war. Their terrible power was used to enhance and wrangle magic of untold devastation by those who controlled them. The institute wishes to use them for purposes and ideas that would benefit Valoran, such as research for medical advancement and energy generation." Jarvan paused, frowning. "At least that's what the Spokesman said."

"So he's come to us?" The king asked, his tone even, though there was some amusement in his tone. "Is it his belief that the mining contract will be granted in our favor?"

"No, I don't think he knows who is going to get the contract." The prince said, frowning and shrugging slightly. "I was under the impression he was going from camp to camp getting pledges of support from all of the member nations of the Institute, should the contract be awarded to any nation."

"I see." The kind murmured, turning and starting to pace slowly. "What evidence do you have of this idea?"

"Katarina Du Couteau was in company of the other members of the delegation." The name froze the king where he stood, his head coming up as his eyes narrowed. "I'm not exactly sure why she was in company of the delegation, but she assured me that the Noxians had already pledged their support to the ongoing agreement regarding the nexuses. Spokesman Samadon also stated that the Piltovans would be next on his list of stops, and from there I would imagine that the Zaunites would be last."

"That seems logical, yes." The king said softly, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned back to the map on the center table and begin to take in the shapes of all the different colors. "What did you tell Samadon?"

"I gave him no definitive answer, father." Jarvan said, nodding his head, slowly. "I told him that I did not carry your authority, but I assured him I would speak with you on the matter."

"Why would you do that?" The king said, surprise on his face as he turned to the prince.

"Sir?" Jarvan looked back at his father, struggling to contain his own surprise.

"Why would you not speak with my authority?" The king asked, setting his jaw. "You are my son, Prince Jarvan Lightshield IV, correct?"

"Yes, but-…" The prince started.

"You are still a ranking member of the Demacian military, yes?" The king asked again.

"Yes, father, but-…" Jarvan tried to protest.

"So why would you not speak with my authority?" The king said, turning to fully face his son. "It's true that you are still young, yes, and you don't always make the correct decision, but neither do I. We are only human. We make judgments based upon what we know and what we are told to the best of our ability, expecting both the best and worst options to come." There was a moment of silence as the king looked up at his son. His eyes glimmered like thunderheads laced with lightning, but there was no anger in his blue eyes. Only the intensity of both a father and a king. "What do you know about the situation?"

"What?" Jarvan's cheeks were blushed slightly in embarrassment, but the king did not give him pause.

"While it is fresh in your mind, tell me." The king said firmly. "What do you know about the situation? What facts do you know for sure?"

"Uh…" Jarvan straightened up slightly, wiping the surprise from his face with a short blast of air through his nose. "Nexuses are powerful natural wells of magical energy. This makes them extremely valuable and highly sought after. However, their usage is extremely closely guarded and regulated by the Institute of War to prevent magical disaster and the possibility of misuse." Jarvan paused, his eyes glancing towards the map laid out in front of him. "If my memory serves me well, it is exceedingly rare for two such sources to be located to be located so close, making the value twice, if not thrice fold their original worth, due to the ability to defend and possess them together using far fewer resources than if they were separate."

"Very good." The king said, nodding his head. "What do you know about the Institute of War?"

"Founded several decades ago to halt the ongoing conflict between Demacia and Noxus to preserve Valoran, the Institute of War has been steadily gaining power as more and more nations within Valoran pledge support." Jarvan frowned, thinking deeply about the Institute, drawing everything he could from his pool of knowledge. "There are representative members from every major power within Valoran, though there are some small independent settlements who have not given their support. They draw upon their member nations for strength based upon different tasks and goals they need to complete, though they also have significant science and magical knowledge that they continue to expand. One of their chief duties as arbitrators of peace is the maintenance and protection of magical artifacts and nexuses."

"So, why are they so interested in these Nexuses?" The king said, leading the prince's train of thought forward.

"It is their duty." Jarvan said, frowning slightly. "Why would they not be interested?"

"Don't let yourself be so naïve." The king said, sighing softly, shaking his head. "As king, you will have to consider every possibility when making decisions. It may not sit well with you, but you also have to consider the most negative motivations, even when someone seems to be altruistic or well-intentioned. Appearances can be deceiving." There was the slightest intonation to his voice that set his last sentence apart, and Jarvan felt himself stiffen.

 _Shyvana._ Jarvan set his jaw, narrowing his eyes at the king. _Is that where this is leading?_

"So, again." The king said firmly. "What use would these Nexuses be to the institute?"

Jarvan frowned. He had let his train of thought be derailed. _Right, what could they want? Money? Power? Land?_ Jarvan gritted his teeth thinking. "Wait…" _It was mentioned before..._ "You don't think this is a power grab do you?"

A thin smile spread over the king's face. "You've grasped the first thread. Now you must pull to see if it all unravels. What has happened in recent months regarding the Institute? Anything that seems to convenient? Anything that seems out of place with what might be occurring here and now?"

"The disappearance of High Councilor Reginald Ashram from the Council of Equity and his rather speedy replacement by Heywan Relivash." Jarvan said slowly. "With his replacement, the Institute quickly moved to express their interest in the nexuses here in Kalamanda. I believe this was the true beginning."

"But does that mean he's trying to ascend to higher office or increase his power?" The king said, watching his son with interest.

Jarvan frowned slightly, pausing to think. "I do not think so, but I've heard murmurs that it was the new High Councilor's idea to move the Battle for Ionia forward. It was also at his request that allowed the battle to take place."

"What of the battle?" The king echoed the prince, acting like a living, breathing sounding board.

Jarvan nodded slowly, frowning. "There was the Battle for Ionian Freedom itself. It came eight years earlier than necessary. Why would Darkwill risk his empire if the resources were as necessary and as tight as we believe them to be for the Noxians?"

"Good." The king said, nodding his head thoughtfully. "Keep going."

"Then there was the discovery of the resources in Kalamanda." Jarvan said, frowning slightly as he forged onwards. "A sudden boon in the eyes of the Noxains, who had just lost their primary source of agriculture by which to support their empire's troops. If they control this region they would be able to trade rights and riches for anything they needed."

"More." The king said, nodding his head.

"The loss of the DDS Excursion." Jarvan said, slowly nodding to himself. His head came up to forestall the king's comment, a look of doubt on his face. "I know this might seem farfetched, but what if the Excursion was sunk to incite a more drastic response than what would be normal?"

The king's jaw hung open for a brief moment before he clicked it shut. "Continue."

"This accelerated the Demacian troop buildup." Jarvan said, starting to pace. "It wasn't directed at any one opponent, but what if the attack wasn't designed for us to target a build up against any one nation? If anyone saw us beginning to build up troops, they would rightly be warranted to build up their own forces."

"Mutually assured destruction." The king mused. "I think you're on to something. Keep going."

"This only continued with the collapse of the Demacian Mines." Jarvan said, nodding to himself. "We moved forces into the region to both protect our forces and to rescue our miners. Internally, we know this to only be standard procedure, but what if it was interpreted to appear like a mass movement of troops into the region for other purposes? What could come of it?" Jarvan froze mid stride and turned to look at the king. "Us."

"Us?" The king frowned back at his son. "You lost me. You were doing so well, too…"

"No, father, stick with me on this one." Jarvan said, his confidence now starting to coalesce into a ball of ice that sat deep in his stomach. "With all of the troop build-ups and the severity of the incidents that continue to mar the region, what did we—you—do in response?"

There was a moment of realization on the king's face. "I moved out into the open." His voice was soft and thoughtful. "I hadn't thought of that…"

"You could be a target, father." Jarvan said seriously.

The king turned and met the prince's gaze, his son's eyes a deep, dangerous blue. The king's smile slowly grew. It was like looking into a mirror twenty years before. Jarvan started to open his mouth but the king immediately threw up his hand. "If you start to suggest I should return to the palace back in the capital, I might as well just stop you now. I will not leave my men to deal with this burgeoning crisis alone. I am the king for a reason, and I will not abandon this post."

Jarvan set his jaw. "The very least you can do is reinforce your guard."

"I'll see that it is done." The king said, glancing at the two captains and the lieutenant who stood off to the side. "I would like to increase patrols. Begin rotating your men onto a twelve hour schedule. Even if they're not standing guard, I want soldiers in the open and visible. We won't increase our numbers, yet, but I want the entire encampment on alert from now onward."

"Yes, sir." Vorscham, Hawke, and Tunis barked simultaneously.

The king turned back to his son. "Can you keep going any further?" When the prince had nothing further to say, the king looked down at his map, brushing a corner down flat again. "Knowing all this, what would you have told Samadon?"

The prince was silent for several moments but his head came up, a determined look on his face. "I would have agreed to his terms. The nexuses are safer in the curatorship of the Institute than any others."

"Very well." The king said, nodding in agreement. "There is your answer. I shall send word to the institute representatives at once." The king grabbed a piece of loose parchment off a shelf and drew a gold-trimmed quill pen from a holder as he produced a deep colored bottle. He dipped the pen in the ink well and scrawled out a quick note before signing the document with a flourish. The court mage who had thus far been quiet, stepped forward with a seal stamp and wax. The king rolled his letter and then accepted the wax and seal. She muttered a soft incantation and a mote of flame burst to life in her palm which the king used to melt the wax. He pressed the deep blue wax onto the paper and then pressed his seal into the wax, marking it with the crest of house Lightshield. "See to it that this reaches Spokesman Samadon." The king held the letter out to a guard who accepted it and then disappeared through a side entrance. "It is done." The king said formally before he turned to his son. "…but you do not look like you have had all of your questions answered. What frets you now, my son?"

"It's just… something doesn't sit well with me." Jarvan frowned, tapping his chin. He caught himself mirroring his father's habit and clasped his hands behind his back. "What other reason could there be for trying to escalate the situation so far? There would be nothing to gain by attacking you other than full scale war."

"Perhaps it is not the king who is at risk." Shyvana suggested. Both Jarvans stopped, turned, and looked at her. Shyvana blushed lightly, but she did not back down. "Would the presence of one dignitary not warrant the presence of other leaders? It's the same as all of the troops building up."

"But who else would be targeted?" Jarvan asked. "Demacia has been the target of most of the attacks up to this point. Why not go directly to their target?"

"No." The king said, again tapping his chin thoughtfully. "She has a point. My presence here is telling every other nation that Demacia is in support of manuvers here, and combined with all of our efforts to assist the Kalamandans, we're in a prime position to get the mining contract. If the field were level and the judges unbiased, the choice would be clear. Anyone who wanted to show a serious interest in the region would have to both match our force deployment and the commitment of our leadership."

" _If_ the playing field was level?" The prince echoed ominously. "What do you mean by that, father?"

"It was what we were discussing before you arrived." The king said, sighing heavily. "I was speaking the captain of the Kalamanda Constabulary about the activities of the town council leader, Brandis Reyes."

"Yes, I traded greetings with him as he was leaving." The prince said, jerking a thumb towards the door. "What did he have to say?"

"He confirmed my fears regarding the councilman's decidedly political leanings, and has expressed his concerns and asked for support." The king's voice was shadowy and teasing as he stroked his beard. "He revealed that it was not just rumor that the councilman has been meeting some shadowy characters in secret for some time now, and while the constable captain has no proof, he states that the councilman's quality of living has drastically increased."

"You think he is taking bribes?" Jarvan said, his eyes widening slightly.

"I do not know for sure, and I do not wish to poison him by making accusations without and substance to them." The king sighed, hanging his head. "However, without more action, I fear that the contract may inevitably get awarded to the party who is supplying his vices and maintaining his vanity and greed."

"So what are we going to do about it?" The prince said hotly, punching the table angrily.

"For now, nothing." The king said softly, shaking his head. "If we move too quickly, then we risk causing conflict. I plan on speaking with General Duchress about deploying further intelligence gathering assets to the region, but for now we must tread cautiously." He turned to the prince, waiting for a reaction, and while Jarvan kept himself from letting his anger get the better of his judgment, he could not keep his frustration from his face. "You disagree with my course of action?"

"No father." Jarvan said through gritted teeth. _But I know Swain has something to do with this. I know it. But I have no proof. Damn._

"Your words say one thing, but you say another." The king sighed softly. "I can hear your brain turning from here. What would you have me do? I cannot simply begin tossing about accusations without proof, Jarvan. Even if I'm right, I'm pushing forward with very little to back it up. If I anger the Zaunites, that could bring the Noxians further into the disagreement, and they are preparing for war. If they decide they do not like the peace, it would not be difficult for them to simply roll over the entire town with the number of troops they've amassed."

"Then bring in more of our own troops!" The prince shouted angrily. "If we appear weak, what position can we use to actually solve these issues, father?"

"Think!" The king barked angrily, his eyes now a dangerous dark blue, flashing ominously. "Before you act, my son. We are here to rescue miners and hopefully secure a mining contract, not start a political war with the Zaunites over their dirty dealing. That is the responsibility of the Kalamandans to sort out internally. All I can do now is support the constable and hope the issue works itself out." The king paused, frowning. "I'm sorry, but my hands are tied for now. Bring me proof and I will act."

The prince grumbled softly, but he stood up straight and nodded tersely. "Yes, Father."

"Speaking of proof, have you learned anything from the doctor's analysis of that… thing?" There was little doubt in the prince's mind to what the king was referring.

"No." The prince said quickly, his lips flattening into a thin line. "I think giving the doctor several days to do her work undisturbed might be best, given my last interaction with her."

"Very well." The king said, watching his son with a more even gaze than before. "I want to know as soon as you find out anything in that regard." His eyes darkened as his brow furrowed beneath his crown. "If you bring me proof from that… I shall lead that attack personally. The slaughter of a company of our own, upon our soil is an act of war, and while I will not act rashly, anyone who dares attack us will pay for it dearly."

The king's intensity heartened the prince noticeably, his smile returning, though thin. "Of course father." There were several moments of silence as the king turned to his map on the central table, examining it closely. His hand hovered over what looked like the main clock tower from Jarvan's position and he tapped it once. "Something else?"

"No, no, just musing to myself." The king sighed as he turned away, turning back to his table and map. "Thank you, that will be all. Please leave me to my thoughts. I need time to mull it all over." The assembled staff bowed deeply and began to file out of the room. "A moment, Shyvana."

The prince frowned, turning and looked at Shyvana. "Father?"

"Just give us a few minutes, please." The king said, offering his son a smile. "You may have your bodyguard back as soon as I am finished."

"Go." Shyvana said to the prince, offering him a thin but reassuring smile. "I will be right behind you."

"Alright." Jarvan nodded, following the others out of the room. He paused in the outer receiving room of the main tent, glancing around the room at the others as they broke off to talk amongst themselves.

"Well that was fun." Forsythe murmured as he dropped down onto one of the seats next to the hearth. "Are we really accusing the League of Legends, a collection of the most powerful … _everything_ in Valoran, of being greedy?"

"The council is composed entirely of humans." Delancey said, shrugging. "Hell, just look at the Rune Wars. We nearly broke the damn planet according to some scholars."

"Yeah, right." Forsythe murmured.

"What, you don't believe it?" Delancey asked, grinning.

"I just think it's a bit hinky that some group just crops up right as the worlds about blow up." Forsythe shrugged again. "But what do I care. I'll probably be long dead before the planet goes."

"Hey, rocks for brains." Delancey snapped, striking him on the back of the head. "You planning on dying any time soon?"

"Not in particular." Forsythe shrugged. "Not if I can avoid it at least." His smile grew. "Funny you should mention rocks though. Did you know that-…"

"Then do us all a favor, corporal." Vorscham barked. "Keep the rock related tips to yourself. I don't care and I don't think anyone else does either."

June laughed lightly, and Hawke rolled her eyes. "You know, considering you're charged with protecting the prince, you're pretty relaxed." The comment was only a hair shy of venomous, but Hawke wasn't masking her incredulity at the two's relaxed mannerisms. "You're going to get him killed with your shenanigans."

Delancey laughed aloud, shrugging, turning away and ignoring the captain, instead turning to talk to Alicia. Forsythe grunted and then started laughing. "You're an uptight bitch, you know that?" Forsythe laughed sharply. "He's not dead yet, and as long as we're here, nothing will come of it. Besides, Captain, do you have your very own dragon to keep you safe?"

"I also outrank you, _corporal_." Captain Hawke snarled. "Watch your tone or I will see to it that you get a one way trip to the stockades."

"Forsythe." Jarvan growled.

"Oh yeah?" Forsythe snarled back, jumping to his feet. "Yeah, I bet you know nothing about being tight. I've heard the stories about how you got those collar tabs."

"Forsythe!" Jarvan bellowed.

"What!?" The corporal snapped.

"Pack it in or pack it up." Jarvan hissed. "Don't give in to her goading. It's not worth it." Hawke grinned victoriously, but she withered under Jarvan glare. "And you. I don't care how smart, attractive, or cool you think you are. I want you to shut your fucking mouth and stop causing arguments every time you deal with anyone at all. If you don't, I will personally ensure you are scrubbing toilets in the barracks for the rest of your career, and no amount of sweet talking, political maneuvering, or favors will ever get you out of your hole. Am I clear?"

"Yeah." Hawke muttered, standing up to Jarvan, practically chest to chest with the prince.

"Am. I. Clear?" Jarvan hissed dangerously, his nose just millimeters from the captain.

"Crystal." Hawke hissed. " _Sir_." Hawke turned to the door and stormed out, leaving a wake of fluttering flaps behind her.

"What was that about?" June asked, frowning, looking around.

"Hawke's always had a chip on her shoulder." Vorscham shrugged. "Don't know why, but it's always been there."

"Great." Jarvan muttered, shaking his head. "More problems to deal with."

"Happens." Forsythe shrugged, shaking his head as he dropped onto his seat and hung his head. "Sorry about that, boss. She just… aggravates me."

Delancey grabbed his cheek and patted it affectionately. "Make sure it stays that way."

"Yes, ma'am." Forsythe grumbled softly. There was light laughter that echoed through the room at the corporal's expense. Jarvan looked about and saw the Tunis was hovering near the exit from the king's study. The prince frowned, watching as the lieutenant continued glancing at the door expectantly.

"Hey Jarvan." The prince turned towards the hail and saw Garen standing in the doorway.

"Garen." The prince said, surprised. "Back already?"

"It _has_ been nearly two hours." The blue-eyed captain said with a lopsided grin.

"Oh." Jarvan said, frowning slightly, shaking his head. "Sorry, we were lost in discussion…"

"No need to apologize." Garen said, nodding. "Ready to go?"

Jarvan nodded. "Yeah, just as soon as Shy-…" He turned and saw Shyvana talking with Tunis, slowly approaching them. Shyvana nodded slowly as Tunis spoke, and Jarvan frowned.

Forsythe elbowed him in the side, grinning. "What's it like having a girlfriend every other guy wants to get freaky with?"

"What?" Jarvan asked, blinking rapidly, turning to look at the corporal.

Forsythe's grin spread. "She's part dragon and there's just… something terrifyingly exotic about her. You haven't noticed how all the others are always looking at her?"

"And what about you?" Delancey said crossly, grabbing his ear and twisting it about. "Got something you wanna say, buster?"

"Owowowow!" Forsythe hissed. "Lemmego!"

"Stop antagonizing the prince." Delancey said, shaking her head. She sighed softly, but her head slowly came up with a mischievous grin. "But then again, Jarvan could have his pick of the litter if he ever wanted." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "I've seen how the female cadets look at him. I don't think I've ever seen such a shameful amount of drool before."

"Maybe she just wants to give him a taste of his own medicine for once." Forsythe said, grinning. "She's getting pretty chummy with Tunis there, eh, cap?"

Jarvan frowned at the corporal, but turned to watch Shyvana talking to Tunis, a smile on her face as she nodded at him, pausing to talk for another moment. Tunis grinned at her and then turned and headed toward Garen. Shyvana gave the lieutenant one last smile before turning to the prince, her smile faltering slightly at the serious look on Jarvan's face. She glanced at Garen.

"Welcome back, captain." Shyvana said, nodding to the knight. "Shall we go now, Jarvan?"

"What was that about?" Jarvan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Just some security concerns of your father's." Shyvana said, slightly reserved. "He also had some assignments that he wanted me to help him with regarding the Institute and my history with this area."

"Ah, I see." The prince said as he glanced at Tunis who was now quickly reeling off a summary of the meeting to his captain. He turned back to Shyvana, shook his head briefly and then nodded, turning to the door. "Yeah, let's go."


	13. Chapter 11: Kalamanda

The morning sun was warm overhead as Garen lead the small band of Demacians from their encampment. The ground was well worn underfoot, and crushed stone from the mines had been spread to control the mud. It crunched underfoot with every step.

"What's the city like with everyone gone?" Shyvana asked, looking down into the town, splayed out below them. They had just crested the rise into the city and were looking down over the edge of the low lying houses on the outskirts of the village. The buildings rose up and obscured their view of the center of town, tall, rickety spires rising up into the clear midday sky from dark, heavy stone buildings. They were battered and weathered, many of the buildings missing shingles in places along their roofs, their stone work cracked and crumbling at corners. A few banners flapped in the gentle wind, crackling and snapping as it gusted through the city.

"It's almost painfully quiet." Garen said calmly, looking down over the houses, watching a few soldiers move about here and there through the city. "Almost all but the most hardcore remnants have fled the city for Demacian or Noxian shelter, though most chose to make their way to Demacia. You can walk the streets and not see a single soul who's been here since before the discovery of the minerals and the mines." Garen shrugged. "Most of the people you run into within the town are Institute personnel or aligned with one of the different nations vying for the resources here."

"There's no one at all left?" Jarvan raised an eyebrow, looking towards the town, reminiscing about their brief stop within the sleepy township, staying the night at the inn not long after losing many of their number.

"Mostly no." Garen shrugged against, gesturing down one path that wound down through the small houses towards the base of the hill. "The only residents I still know about are the few business owners who have chosen to try and sell to the occupying forces."

"Are there many that have chosen to stay?" This time it was Alicia who asked, walking next to the dragoness, just behind Jarvan and Garen.

"Admittedly, no." Garen said, a thoughtful expression on his face. "It's mostly just the local tavern owners that are left now. At first there were a few grocers and farmers, but they quickly sold out of their stocks and then left like the rest. I suspect that the taverns will close at some point as well, when they have no more ale to sell. Till then, they've managed to keep their taps flowing and somehow managed to keep their pantries stocked."

Shyvana slowed her pace noticeably, looking down over the town's squat outer buildings. Tunis paused, turning to look back at her. "Something wrong?"

"Ah, no." Shyvana said, shaking her head. "Just feeling a bit nostalgic. That's all."

"We'll catch up in a few moments." Jarvan said to his childhood friend, signaling that Garen should keep going. The blue-eyed knight cast the dragoness a wary look but nodded, gesturing for Alicia and Tunis to follow.

"Everything alright, Shy?" Jarvan asked cautiously when they had moved out of earshot.

"Yeah." Shyvana said softly, her gaze turning a bit distant as she looked out over the town. "Well, no… I don't know."

"What's bothering you?" Jarvan asked gently, standing next to her. Before he could grab her hand to comfort her or hook an arm over her shoulder, she stepped forward out of reach, clasping her hands together behind her back wistfully.

"Last time I stood in a similar position to this, you had just run off to track Forsythe down, leaving me with Isaacs." Shyvana murmured softly, a nostalgic smile on her lips.

"I remember that." Jarvan said, sighing softly. "Isaac has just lost his son and you your father... I'm not surprised the two of you grew close so fast."

Shyvana nodded. "He didn't seem to care about what I was, only that I face my fears." Shyvana chuckled softly, her hand sliding up to her face, gently hovering above her cheek. "Up till that point, I had never met another human who had treated me so. It was different." Shyvana paused, though after several quiet moments her hand strayed to her cheek. "Did you know that Isaacs slapped me?"

"He what?" Jarvan asked, horrified.

Shyvana laughed softly, shaking her head, looking morosely down to the ground. "It wasn't like that." She wrapped her arms across her chest uncomfortably, as if she were remembering something painful she did not wish to think about. "I was worried about going into the village. I was still a ball of tumultuous emotion from the death of father…" Her voice trailed off and Jarvan could see that she was being reminded of that again. She shook her head as if to try and cast off tears. "I didn't have full control of myself at the time and I didn't want to be cast out because of it. I didn't want to become an outcast again after meeting you and starting to enjoy the company of you and Isaacs. I was afraid of the pain of losing what I had gained. I tried to run… but Isaacs wouldn't let me."

"You've never told many any of this." Jarvan said softly. "What did he-…"

Shyvana offered him a sad smile, but shook her head. "I'd rather not talk about it right now. I was ashamed of it for so long." She shook her head again, leaving her face hanging, obscured by the shadow of her crimson bangs. "All I can say was that it was thanks to Isaacs that I didn't run." Shyvana took a deep breath, putting on a brave smile. "I miss him, Jarvan. He always seemed to have all the answers, and he always made me feel so welcome."

"I know." Jarvan said solemnly, looking off to the east. Somewhere out there, Isaacs was buried in an unmarked grave. "I miss him too." Jarvan started to step towards the dragoness, but Shyvana shook her head, looking up at the prince.

"I'm sorry." Shyvana said, taking a deep breath, standing up straighter and wiping at her eyes. "I'm not proud of how I felt back then. I'm fine now, but… I want a little space. It is not proper for a future king to have to comfort his bodyguard. Let's catch up with the others." She offered Jarvan a thin smile which the prince tried to return, though it faltered as Shyvana turned and started trudging down the road before Jarvan had time to even respond.

Jarvan nodded absently, letting Shyvana guide him back to the group that was waiting at the base of the hill, talking softly. Alicia shot the dragoness a look to ask if she were alright, and while Shyvana smiled, Alicia cast the prince a dirty look as if he had done something wrong.

"Everything alright?" Tunis asked, glancing from the prince to Shyvana.

"Fine, thank you." Shyvana said, her smile growing slightly as she nodded. "Just some memories I'm not terribly fond of…"

"If you two need some time…" Garen started, frowning slightly, looking from Jarvan to Shyvana and back again.

"No, no." The dragoness said, shaking her head. "I'm fine now. Let's keep going."

Garen nodded and then gestured for the others to follow him as he started off down the road again, though he was moving slightly slower this time. The group was now approaching the outer limits of the township, a low stone wall marking the line. They passed the last few scattered houses, all barren, dark and empty. The windows of some houses had been smashed, while others had entire doors broken in from looters and scavenger. Wooden palisades had been erected along either side of the entrance into the town, the tops of the heavy timbers sharpened and angled outwards towards the encampments. Atop the palisades were two militiamen, heavy but simple looking spears clasped in their hands. Jarvan recognized the dark, heavy plate armor and hardened leather jacket they wore, similar to the constable he had run into earlier in his father's tent. They each wore pot-like helmets, but they didn't have the fancy crest adorning the metal. A third guard stood in the middle of the road, his hand resting upon a sword that hung upon his hip, his other hand hanging clasped at the collar of his steal cuirass. Unlike the others, he wore a beret with a brown hawk feather tucked in the side, denoting he was the ranking militiaman.

"How ya say, Cap'n?" The man called jovially, raising a hand in Garen's direction. "Bring'n some visitors to the taverns, are ya?" The man had a happy but drawling voice that matched his lopsided smile.

"Hello, Troy." Garen said, shaking the man's outstretched hand. "Just showing some newcomers about the town. That's all."

"Ah, I gotchu." The man said, nodding slowly, smiling. He scanned the small crowd. "'Ow you, Tunis? aw'right?" The man wore a grin as the lieutenant nodded and grinned at him.

"I'm doing well." Tunis said, shaking his hand briefly. "You?"

"I'm 'appy i's finally warming up." The man grumbled, scratching at his chin. "Twas colder than a witches' tit this mornin'."

"This is Troy Falstrom." Garen said, turning to the prince and others in the group. "He's in charge of the west gate."

"'Ello folks." Troy said jovially, tugging on the brim of his beret before pushing it up on his head and inspecting the others in Garen's small party. "'Hoo you got wit' ya today, eh Garen?"

"May I introduce his highness, Prince Jarvan Lightshield IV, his lieutenant, Shyvana von Faust, and the quartermaster of one of the new royal guard companies, Alicia Juniper. The first two have business with me, and the third has business with the Mayor."

"Blimey." The man said, grinning, dragging his beret off as he looked up at the prince. "Ain't never met royalty bafore." The guardsman grinned as Jarvan nodded at him. His gaze turned to Juniper and he grin widened slightly. "And you darlin'. Wair 'ave you been all me life?"

The gunny blushed but she smiled at the man. "You're too kind." She said, bowing her head in thanks. "But alas, I am already spoken for."

"Pity." The man said, grinning widely. He turned to Shyvana and looked her up and down, his eyes falling warily on the dragon's head gauntlets that hung upon her waist. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he peered at the dragoness. "Faust, eh? I feel like I've 'eard dat name bafore… wyzat sound so familiar?" He scratched at his head, gazing at Shyvana. The dragoness felt her hair stand on end across her body, but the man finally shrugged. "Well, I can't place it but it sounds familiar." He turned back to the others. "Just a few ground rules, folks. Standard procedure an' all."

"We understand." Jarvan nodded. "Please proceed."

"Rioght." The man said nodding. "Rule one: no fighting within city walls. We catch you fighting and we'll kick ya from the walls and you won't be welcome back." Jarvan glanced at the stone walls and noted that even if you were thrown from them it wouldn't hurt. "Rule two: you can only enter and exit through the town gates. We don't want anyone getting lost during their stay here. Rule three: No lollygaggin'. Less you be heading to the taverns afterwards, take care of your business and keep moving. Any questions?"

Garen glanced at the others before nodding to the man. "None."

"Roight." The guard said, grinning, stepping out of the way and gesturing into the town behind him. "Welcome to Kalaman'a, ladies and gents." Each of the members of the small band of soldiers nodded their thanks and stepped through the gate into the township. Just beyond was a small house that had repurposed into the guard post's quarters, and there was smoke rising from the chimney. The town was still sparse at the very outskirts, even inside the walls. There were a few houses in the area, mostly scattered inside large, walled compounds, though the air seemed tense as they moved deeper into the town. Jarvan shivered, his skin crawling as they moved along the path.

"Hey Shy…" Alicia said softly, glancing over at the dragoness. "Uh…"

The dragoness glanced over at the gunny and frowned slightly. "Wha-…?" Shyvana's voice trailed off as she looked at the gunny.

"Well…" Alicia drew in a breath, marking lines above her head that curved back and pointed up into the air. Shyvana blinked several times and looked up at the prince, confusion on her face. She reached up and touched her head. Jarvan met her gaze and grinned down at her.

"Getting a bit hot under the collar?" Jarvan asked, chuckling softly and grinning. "Your temper is showing, Shy."

"Jarvan." Shyvana said shortly, stamping her foot, jumping slightly as flames billowed around her footstep, darkening the cobbles underfoot, the hay and grass peeking through the flames smoldering lazily. "I… I'm not doing this…" The dragoness blushed as color slowly crept along her skin, scales showing along her body in places. Scales showed under the dragoness's collar and along her cheeks, her eyes glowing a brilliant, molten orange. Shyvana flexed her hands, grimacing. Flames crackled around her fists as she inhaled slowly before exhaling a cloud of steam through her nose. Her eyes widened slightly and the edge of her lips twitched almost excitedly. "It's… I can't even tell…" Shyvana shivered, looking her arms up and down. "This power…"

"It's the magic in the air." Alicia said softly. Jarvan and the others glanced back to the gunny and froze in surprise. She glowed softly, her skin looking radiant and bright, her icy white hair billowing slightly as if being teased by the wind. She floated just above the ground, her cloak flapping gently around her.

"Uh…" Jaran muttered, blinking rapidly, surprise clear on his face. "June… you… uh. You seem to be _floating_."

"I know." Alicia said, shooting the prince a glare before rolling her eyes. "I was briefed on this as a magic user but it just came back to me. It's a safety precaution for being around the Nexus." She saw the confusion on the prince's face and raised her hands to forestall further questions. "Here, I'll explain. Because it's a natural convergence point of magical energy, the energy concentrations in the surrounding area are markedly higher than natural levels. Mages who are not attuned to its presence have to channel that energy somehow or risk potentially dangerous consequences." Alicia leaned forward slightly, her cloak billowing as she moved forward. "This would normally be exhausting for me, but right now I can't even tell I'm not simply standing on my own two feet." She glided playfully around the dragoness, leaning forward to advance, backwards to slow, and left and right to turn. Shyvana wore a broad smile as she watched the gunny slowly carve a graceful path around her. "For Shyvana that means that means it's harder for her to contain her power and is shows through, hence the blue beauty we see now." Alicia winked at the dragoness who blushed lightly. She turned to Garen and Jarvan, her expression turning thoughtful. "Though I'm not sure how it'll effect you two."

"That would make sense." Garen said softly, looking at the dragoness with a mix of fear and respect in his voice. He glanced at Juniper and shook his head. "We're approaching the Nexus, now."

"It would make sense for Shyvana too." Alicia said, nodding. "Though she's not transforming fully, either…"

"What type of magical energy does the Nexus hold?" Shyvana asked, looking at the gunny.

"Mana." The gunny stated, finally coming to a stop, crossing her legs and assuming as pose as if she were sitting. "Most mages use their bodies to channel naturally occurring mana through their bodies to form their spells and magic.

"Easy now." Jarvan said softly. "You're going to spook the locals if you're not careful." Shyvana looked up and shot the prince a derisive glare, though her eyes softened slightly.

"I don't think I can do anything about it." Shyvana said, shaking her head slightly before looking back down at her armored gauntlets. She undid the leather strapping on her gauntlet and slid the dragon's head off her hand looking to Jarvan. "Can you hold this?"

"Sure." Jarvan nodded, accepting it and holding it like a bowl as Shyvana fiddled with a few straps on her armored hand guard before tugging it off and dumping it into the dragon's head. She looked down at her hand and formed a fist. Her skin was a pale, dangerous grey-blue stretched tight over long claws. Shyvana exhaled slowly closing her eyes and slowly took several long, slow, deep breaths. The ground around her shivered excitedly, pebbles and dust shifting and bouncing as the energy flowed through the dragoness. Shyvana took one final deep breath and watched as her hand reverted to her normal fingers, though her skin was the same grey-blue as before. Scales just barely shown along the surface of her skin.

"Usually that works…" Shyvana said, finally opening her eyes, looking down and examining her hand.

"You're telling me." Jarvan said, grinning. He made a show of waving a hand at his face. "You're pretty hot right now."

Shyvana blushed and the swirling around her intensified, the dust and pebbles slowly dancing away from her on the ground. "Thanks." Shyvana murmured softly. "If you like this appearance, I can…"

"I was talking about the heat." Jarvan said, chuckling, grinning cheekily at the dragoness. "Might wanna turn it down a notch, hot stuff." Shyvana blinked a few times before stomping her foot, flames billowing around her violently. They washed along the ground, flickering and fizzling out.

"Jarvan, you jerk." Shyvana hissed softly. "That's not funny." She wore a thin smile though, flashing it at the prince before accepting her forearm guard and armored glove back, sliding it on and strapping it back in position.

"Will it be safe to get closer to the nexus?" Garen asked, glancing back and forth between the dragoness and the prince. His eyes traced back to Shyvana, hesitating over her.

"It should be." Jarvan said, nodding. "I don't think she'll transform and eat anyone…" He made a show of being mockingly thoughtful, though his cheeky expression withered slightly under Shyvana's exacting glare. "She hasn't in the past few weeks. Unless you consider last night when she-…"

 _THUD._

Jarvan groaned as he clutched his stomach, writhing upon the ground. Shyvana stood next to him, smiling brightly, her armored fist smoking. "June, shall we go on ahead?"

The gunny's eyes were wide in surprise but she burst into laughter before nodding slowly. "Will he be alright?"

"Probably." Shyvana said, nodding slowly. "Maybe a little time spent _alone_ will teach him to watch the details he chooses to expose when in company of others." Shyvana took several steps forward before looking back at the gunny. "Shall we?" The floating mage laughed softly before nodding, floating alongside the dragoness as they advanced down the path speaking quietly amongst themselves, leaving a wide eyed Garen and Tunis to look after the writhing prince.

"You okay down there?" Garen asked, glancing down at the prince. He kneeled and poked Jarvan in the side, causing the prince to writhe briefly.

"Yeah." Jarvan grunted as he finally sat up, grinning stupidly. Garen blinked a few times before shaking his head and sighing, offering a hand to the prince. The prince accepted it and let the knight haul him up to his feet. He grinned at Garen but winced slightly as he turned. "She really doesn't pull punches." Garen set a hand on Jarvan's pauldron to steady him as Jarvan examined the dent in the side of his armor.

"She's bloody mad." Garen said, shaking his head. "What was that for?"

"For embarrassing her in public." Tunis said matter-of-factly, meeting Jarvan's gaze. The prince frowned slightly, narrowing his eyes as he looked at the lieutenant. "You should treat her better instead of using her as the butt of your offensive jokes."

Jarvan pulled away from Garen's hand, standing up straight, rising to his full height. He stood several inches over the knight, and easily half a foot over the lieutenant. "Do you have something to say, Lieutenant?" Jarvan's voice was even, though there was a hint of danger hovering just behind the calm tone.

"You should treat Miss Faust with more respect." There was challenge in Tunis' voice as he looked up at the prince, unphased. "If you think she'll always just take the abuse because you're the prince, then-…"

"Abuse?" Jarvan said softly, his eyes going wide as he stepped forward. "Listen here, you-…"

"Easy, you two." Garen said, stepping between the two of them, pressing a hand on each man's chest and forcing them apart. "Jarvan, ignore him. Tunis, stand down, you have no right to talk to the prince like that." Garen glanced back and forth between the two of them, frowning slightly. "Tunis, give us a moment."

"Sir." Tunis said briskly, taking a step back. His expression was tense but the anger faded slightly as he glance at his captain and then turned away, marching off down the road. Jarvan glared after him angrily, his expression remaining cross even after the lieutenant left.

"What was that all about?" Garen asked, turning to the prince after the lieutenant had gotten far enough away. "Did I miss something here between you and Shyvana?"

"No." Jarvan said tersely. "Things are fine between us. Your Lieutenant though… I don't like how he's acting towards Shyvana."

"Easy, now." Garen said, gesturing in a placating manner. "That strike seemed a bit more violent than normal… are you sure everything is fine?"

"No, we're fine." Jarvan asserted, his expression faltering slightly. _We are, right?_ "It's fine, Garen."

The knight paused, looking at the prince for several moments, his expression skeptical. "Whatever you say, Jarvan." He sighed softly, shaking his head and gestured down the road. "Wanna catch up?"

"Yeah." Jarvan said, glowering slightly. He sighed as he fell into step with the knight, heading down the road deeper into the city.

They passed a stand of pine trees, a sharp spike of stone and rock jutting out of the ground violently, though it tapered off slightly as it fell to the ground, narrowing the path slightly. There was tall grass along the edge of the road, a timber fence just barely showing over the top of the grass. A ways behind the grass there were a few overgrown bushes, and beyond that was a fallen-in shack. There was a large building that stood off to the left side of the road, inside the fenced lot. It looked to be some sort of inn or a barn for horses, though it looked dilapidated, as if it had been abandoned long ago. The paint was grayed and peeling, the wood looked dried and cracked, and the wooden tiles on the roof we curled and falling apart.

However, there was a bluish glow that emanated from just beyond the building.

"What in Runeterra…" Jarvan murmured softly.

Garen grinned. "This…" They rounded the corner. "Is a full size Nexus crystal."

The crystal was an electric azure, gleaming brilliantly and glowing with radiant power. The crystal itself was massive, easily the size of a small house with violently sharp spires and peaks along the bottom and top, peeling off either end like the flicker of a flame, frozen in time. There were periodic crackles of electricity across the surface of the stone, sometimes jumping out and sparking atop arrestors constructed to harness the power. The crystal bobbed over a dark abyss, a massive hole ripped in the ground sitting gaping below the crystal as is slowly spun and bobbed menacingly. There were catwalks and scaffolding set up all around the crystal, though it did not touch it anywhere. Atop the fabricated walkways, hundreds of mages and scientists scurried to and fro, some taking measurements with odd looking gadgets and wands, others using magic wands to channel power into smaller chips of azure stone that crackled and shivered with the power that flowed into it. The entire area was buzzing with activity as militiamen patrolled anxiously, scientists came and went from large tents, while others simply stood around conversing about the crystal in hushed and reverent tones.

"It's massive…" Jarvan murmured, his eyes wide as he looked up at the crystal, glancing left and right to try and get a sense of the monstrous size of it. He had seen small mana gems before, and he had even heard tales and seen pictures of the Institute's fabled field of justice, Summoner's Rift, but seeing the crystal first hand was humbling. His skin crawled and the hair on his skin all seemed to shiver with static electricity that crackled in the air. "Is it even safe?"

Garen nodded. "It won't hurt you, even if you were struck by the bolts." The knight gestured to a white sheet of what looked like lightening that jumped out and hit one of the heavy metal rods that was pointed towards the stone. "The rods there are to harness the stray energy and keep it from causing any further environmental damage." He gestured towards the remnants of the barn that stood crumbled behind the nexus. Lit by the azure glow of the nexus, Jarvan could see that the insides had been gutted by flames, and it looked as if the missing half of the building had been swallowed by the dark abyss. There were holes in the building and Jarvan could see the dark outlines of boulders that had settled on the bottom floor of the building after having crashed through the other floors.

"Pardon me if I don't test your assertions." Jarvan said, shuddering.

Garen chuckled softly as he started to lead the prince closer, wading through the crowd of mages, scientists and the hundreds of assistants that scurried about. Jarvan and Garen saw icy white and crimson red hair ahead of them, closer to the crystal. Jarvan frowned against the tide of people that flowed around him, buffeting him back and forth as they moved about. Jarvan finally just froze where he stood, setting his stance

"Things are busy this morning." Garen remarked, grinning as he looked about at all the activity. "Something big must have happened."

Jarvan nodded, content to simply stand amid the chaos, standing out against the tide and simply watching the movements of everyone around him, keep his eyes towards where Shyvana and Juniper stood talking with the yordle now. Jarvan noticed a rift between the workers and Shyvana, and he could only assume it was her daunting appearance.

"…-and get another photonic mana arrestor tower up, stat." A squeaky voice ordered. "Now, where was I…? Ah yes! Miss Shyvana, how nice to see you again!" The voice belonged to a squat yordle with a massive blonde afro, a large monocle on a mechanized arm sticking out from one side. The yordle slapped it aside and it bounced back against his hair, as the yordle clapped excited. "Welcome, welcome!" He said excitedly.

"Hello, Cecil." Shyvana said, smiling broadly at the yordle. "I'd heard you were in the area. I'm glad I managed to run into you so soon."

"Me too, my dear!" The yordle said, hugging the dragoness when she bent over. "And you as well, Miss Juniper. Lovely to see you both!"

"I take it your efforts are proceeding well?" Alicia asked, amusement in her voice.

"Extremely!" The little yordle said, practically bouncing in his boots. "The power of these new crystals is immense! With these we could easily power hundreds of thousands, if not millions of homes! We could industrialize the entire continent with the power put off by these crystals." He jumped about, spinning cheerfully. "Oooh, it's so exciting I could just sing!"

"Incoming!" The excited shout brought the entire crowd around the nexus to a complete standstill. Jarvan glanced about and only just saw the charging figure as she launched herself forward in a wild attack. "Eat this!"

Shyvana slid in front of the prince, bringing her gauntlets in a defensive stance, taking the blow on her gauntlets, her stance only sinking slightly as she snarled, fire swirling violently around her. The pink-haired assailant grinned excitedly, smiling at the dragoness. Shyvana snarled back as she forced the woman back, finally sending her skidding backwards. The woman sunk one of the massive fists into the ground, tearing up solid stone with the massive mechanical fingers as she finally ground to a halt. She stood up, clapping her metal hands together, knocking the mud from her iron fingers. She took up a guard, her weapons in front of her as she danced from foot to foot.

"Who are you!?" Shyvana snarled, the flames swirling violently around her, hair billowing about her like she was trapped within a tornado.

The woman grinned broadly as she dropped her guard, looking the dragoness up and down. "I wanted to see what you would do." She said, brushing her chin upon her arm, still wearing a broad, toothy smile. "I'd heard about you, dragon. I just wanted to see it for myself."

"You're mad." Shyvana snarled back. Her fire burned hotter as she glared at the woman, though when the assailant only shrugged, Shyvana's angry expression faltered and she slowly dropped her guard, the flames dying. "Who are you?" The pink-haired young woman paid the dragoness no attention, stepping past her towards where the yordle stood now. Shyvana slid between the prince and the young woman, her shoulders tense, but when the woman paid neither her nor the prince any mind, she finally dropped her guard completely.

"Oi, crackerjack." The little yordle froze, his mouth open, his mustache twitching on his upper lip. He adjusted his spectacles and looked about, his gaze finally settling on a buxom young woman, massive metal fists on her hands and crossed over her chest.

"Rude." He squeaked, though when the woman's gaze darkened slightly, he shook his head, his shoulders sinking slightly. "Hello, Vi." Heimerdinger said, slightly irritated. "What can I do for you?"

"Hat lady wants an update for the mayor." The woman's bubblegum pink hair was tousled lightly to the side, her attire almost as gaudy. She noticed the agape stare from both Alicia and Shyvana and winked at them.

"What was that about?" Shyvana shot at her, her expression slightly annoyed.

"Sorry 'bout that." She shrugged, nonchalantly. "'Punch first, ask questions while punching' as I always say." She laughed at her own joke before her smile faltered slightly. "Well, not _while_ … _after_ I guess. I remember you two from that fancy-schmancy party at the castle and wanted to see what all the talk was about for myself." There was a smile on her face as she looked back and forth between them, her grin growing. "You know, for a snowflake and a fireball, you two did a good job keeping crackerjack here safe." She patted the yordle with her massive armored gauntlets, unaware as his knees sank with each strike atop his bushy afro. She paused, frowning slightly, tapping her chin. "I had something I needed to tell you. But I can't remember what." She shrugged. "Oh well. I'll probably remember later. Let me know about that report, 'kay crackerjack?" She waved a quick goodbye and turned. "Hat lady is a bit antsy in her panties, so better make it quick."

There were several moments of perfect silence as the woman disappeared through the crowd, almost as quickly as she came. Heimerdinger was the first to break the silence, sighing as she trotted away. "Groundbreaking hextech innovation employed in service of… punching. Such a pity."

"Crackerjack?" Alicia said with a playful smile. The yordle glowered slightly, shaking his head and sighing again. "Just who is she?"

"At least I finally got her to stop calling me a crack pot." Heimerdinger shrugged and turned back to look at the crystal. "It's a start. That was Vi, one of the Sheriff's enforcers. I'm hesitant to have her here, she has a tendency to break things, but she's good help and she gets things done, even if the results aren't always pretty. I can appreciate that, as I believe you can as well."

Garen finally found a break in the ground and stepped forward, pulling Jarvan with him. "Dr. Heimerdinger."

The yordle started, but turned, looking up at the two towering Demacians stood over him. "Oh my." He squeaked, fanning his face briefly. "You scared me, Garen." He chuckled squeakily. "I thought I told you just to call me Cecil?"

"Of course, doctor." Garen said, grinning thinly.

The yordle shook his head, his afro drooping slightly before her turned to the prince. "And you must be Prince Jarvan IV. How do you do? Cecil Heimerdinger, at your service."

Jarvan kneeled and shook the yordle's hand. "The pleasure is all mine. I've heard quite a bit about you."

The yordle looked surprised. "You've heard of my inventions, I assume?"

"Yes." Jarvan said, pushing himself up and nodding down at the yordle. "I'm well aware of your significant contributions to the safety of the Demacian People and her capital, and I wanted to thank you for that." The prince saluted the yordle and bowed his head in thanks. "If you ever need or want visit, you are welcome in Demacia."

"Thank you!" Heimerdinger said, bouncing about excitedly. "I've got some utterly fantabulous new inventions I would love to discuss to further strength the trading relationship between Piltover and Demacia." The yordle had produced a small bag as his voice raced and he was digging through it now, sending pieces of paper spilling across the ground, some crushed and crumpled, all the other at least ruffled and creased in multiple places. "Ah, yes! Here it is! I was developing a rocket assisted transportation carriage. It would significantly reduce the transit times between our respective nations by a factor of at least three and-…" Shyvana shivered, her entire body shuddering. "My dear, did you suddenly catch a chill?"

"Is that the same one I dragged you off of?" Shyvana asked, raising an eyebrow, leaning down to look closely at the page. Her hand jumped to her side as she shivered again.

"Err…" The inventor glanced down at the page and then back up again. "Yes, well…" He paused, his mustache twitching. "That was a prototype. For your sake, however, I shall ensure I do further testing before application with my next version."

Shyvana laughed softly, smiling at the yordle. "Thank you for your consideration, Cecil."

"Of course, of course!" He said excitedly, resuming his digging through the satchel, now actively tossing pieces of paper about. "Let's see here, I knew I had another one somewhere…"

"Doctor, doctor!" A young woman in a white coat came running forward, thick goggles strapped to the top of her head, a clipboard clutched under her arm.

"Yes, what is it?" Heimerdinger said impatiently.

"We're about ready to raise the next arrestor tower." She said almost as quickly as the yordle talked. "We're just waiting on you."

The yordle glanced down at his bag and then shut it, shaking his head. "Ah, but alas, science calls. I'll be along momentarily." The woman nodded and scampered off as he turned to Shyvana and smiled. "It was good you see you, my dear. And you as well." Alicia smiled at him and nodded her head. The yordle turned to Jarvan. "Please, if you have some free time, I'd love to talk with you about other developments. Or if you prefer, I can give you a tour of our facilities here. Really, quite fascinating stuff."

"Of course." Jarvan said, nodding. "I'll see if I can find the time."

"Very good, very good." The yordle nodded to himself thoughtfully. His head finally came up as he started off, waving. "Toodaloo!" He laughed madly to himself as he disappeared in a sea of white coats.

"That was…" Jarvan murmured after several moments of silence amid the party.

"He's quite the force of nature." Garen chuckled. "I've dealt with him before in dealings with the institute. It can be quite taxing."

"I was just having trouble keeping up with what he was saying." Shyvana said, laughing. "It's good to see he's doing well, though. After last time, I was worried he might find another way to blow himself up."

"You're telling me." Alicia said, shaking her head, bending down to pick up a balled up piece of paper, glancing around at the others scattered around the ground. "If this is what it looks like after just a brief conversation, I'd hate to see what his lab looks like."

They laughed at the joke and then slowly started getting pushed away from the nexus as another heavy metal tower began to get winched into place. They moved clear of the construction, watching with amazement as the structure went up at a surprising pace. "Let's continue." Garen said, glancing at a pocket watch. "We're a tad bit behind, but we should still make it in time if we hurry."

Jarvan was about to ask what they were going to be late for, but the knight had already turned and taken off. He glanced at Shyvana who merely shrugged back. They followed after the knight as he turned back onto the main thoroughfare into the town, and while the foot traffic was slightly heavier, it was only a matter of steps before the hustle and bustle had all but died.

There were many other houses in the area, far more than the scattered few they had passed outside the walls. They were mostly one story structures with walls forming small compounds, often times encompassing other small buildings. Some looked as if they had belong to tradesmen, with heavy stone outbuildings signifying forges or storage facilities for goods. Garen led the ground through the twisting streets, along the cobblestone road towards the center of the town.

As they wound through the village, the buildings grew taller and closer together, starting to resemble one of the many residential districts in the Demacian Capital. The buildings hung over the street on either side, their heavy timbers leaned over the thoroughfare. In some places, the entire street was covered by buildings that looked as if the street had been built straight through the center of it, a small tunnel cleaved out and the holes filled in. They passed all sorts of buildings, many signs hanging from iron bars hung into the street, rickety and often faded signs hanging and creaking eerily in the silence, moved only by the occasional gust of wind that swept through the street. Many of the buildings had hastily been boarded up to try and ward off looters, but in many places the glass had been broken out of shop windows and the wooden coverings had simply been ripped away.

Alleyways curled off the road at odd intervals, some dropping away from the main street and down into the gutters below, others rising up to second story doors. Even in the midday light, the alleyways were dark, dank, and ominous. Down more than a few times, they saw movement from the depths of the shadows, though they were mostly just mice and the occasional bum who didn't have enough sense to flee the conflict. The streets were dirty and small muddy banks of unthawed snow and ice piled in the shadows where the sunlight couldn't reach it. Trash had been scattered about the once clean and idyllic streets that Jarvan remembered from many, many months ago. It had started to pile up, discarded by passing soldiers or simply forgotten by fleeing residents, and with the town nearly emptied, there was no one to clean up the mess.

Jarvan recognized some of the shops and buildings as they passed, but not from his most recent incursion through the city. The only time he'd ever journeyed through this part of the sleepy border town was the very first time he'd passed through with all twelve of the original contingent of soldiers he had departed with from Demacia nearly three years prior. Despite the time since he'd ventured through, he recognized many of the same style of buildings, despite the slightly greyed hue of the entire village. The buildings had once been brilliant colored shades of all colors, framed with heavy timbers, but now they were only muted reminders of the splendor and energy from the past.

The sounds of a distant explosion shook the ground beneath their feet and Shyvana dropped into a defensive stance, her arm jumping to Jarvan's chest, ready to throw him to the ground if need be. The ground shook for several slow moments, the rumble dying quickly, leaving only the thin tendrils of dust fall from the buildings to show for it.

"Zaunite blasting." Tunis said matter-of-factly, grinning at Shyvana.

"How do you know?" She asked, frowning slightly as she stood up straighter, blushing lightly, embarrassed by her reaction.

"The Zaunites aren't exactly controlled with their technique." Tunis said, shrugging. "They prefer quantity of explosive rather than quality of placement. The Piltovans are the only others still blasting but they prefer much smaller pin-point charges combined with their observations of the natural features of the rock to get a similar effect. It takes longer, but you don't have to deal with the ground shaking so damn much." Tunis shrugged, falling in beside Shyvana as the ground started moving again. "It makes for easy tracking of the Zaunite mining efforts, but as they get deeper and deeper, it's becoming pretty difficult to actually tell the difference between the Zaunite blasting and natural tectonic shifts. The Piltovans have some gear that can tell the difference, but as deep as the Zaunites have gone, it's become nigh impossible less you hear the blast."

"You know a lot about mining." Jarvan said, looking back at the lieutenant. "You come from a mining family?"

"I have an uncle who is a blasting expert for your Loadstone Mining Company, and I liked talking with him about it when I was a kid." Tunis said, shrugging. "Though, I have a bit of a background in explosives myself."

Garen chuckled softly. "Garrier is being humble." The knight captain, glanced back at his lieutenant, grinning. "Tunis here was an explosives expert who was attached to Demsec before he decided that he wanted to pursue a career as a knight."

"You served under Jormander?" Jarvan asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Not directly." Tunis said, shaking his head. "I transferred out of the Security Brigade to go to through Officer's School right when Jormander took over control. Up until that point I had been serving under Colonel Withmore, and before that I had been attached to the Royal Engineering Brigade that was training in conjunction with the Piltovans. That's where I originally learned about blasting and explosives, though it's been a number of years since I had any practical experience with any of it."

"I guess that explains it." Shyvana said thoughtfully. "I'm impressed."

"Thanks." Tunis said quietly. "But I'm nothing compared to you." Tunis said, looking to the dragoness. "You can conjure flame like it's nothing. I couldn't do that without tools."

"Thanks." Shyvana said, nervously, ducking her head slightly.

The buildings along the street had transformed from shacks and houses of clay and timber to structures crafted from heavy, rough-hewn stone that rose higher and higher above them. Tattered banners and signs hung from some of the structures, marking restaurants and other buildings like general goods stores, warehouses and shops. The passed by a tall, grand building that had flying buttresses that jutted off from the side of the structure, low stone and timber walls that had once been to keep trespassers out from under the buttresses now only looked like they were holding back the weeds from encroaching into the street. The building had tall, narrow windows and it was built like a keep, and as Jarvan looked up at the edge of the roof, he spied what looked like castle walls that ran around the edge of the roof, the top of the structure build like some of the other buildings out of clay and timbers.

They emerged into the town square, and they moved out into the center of the open, cobbled quad, heading towards a large dry fountain. Jarvan looked back at the massive building behind them with the buttresses and noticed the tall bell tower that hung at the top.

Garen noticed his gaze and turned, starting to walk backwards as he pointed up at the structure. "That's town hall. Most of the remaining Kalamandan government officials are quartered there. If there's a meeting between more than two of the different nations here, they meet there as neutral ground." He paused and turned slightly, pointing as a slightly less-grand but equally tall structure that stood several door down from the town hall. Long banners bordered in gold and embroidered with intricate patterns. "That's a fancy old inn that was abandoned at the very beginning of the conflict, given to the care of the Institute by the owners for the duration of their stay. All the institute figures are quartered there, save for the representatives who are residing within their representative encampments." Garen glanced around as he turned back towards the fountain. "Let's see…"

"What about that building?" Alicia asked.

Garen turned and followed her outstretched arm, looking to a wide, squat building constructed similarly to town hall, though where the hall looked as if it had been built to be both defensible and grand, this had been built almost purely to be defensible. "That's the town garrison." Garen said, looking at it for a moment before a scowl settled on his face. "I don't know how far it dates back, but according to an archeological expert from Piltover, the foundation dates back to the time of the Shuriman Empire." It had tall walls that ran around the entire compound, and on each corner there were tall clay and timber towers with Guardsmen posted in each. There were a series of taller inner buildings within the walls, and at the back there was a tall building, built like a keep, a tower and bell of its own at the very top. It was built like a fortress.

"When was it last rebuilt?" Jarvan asked, glancing from the fortress back to the town hall. Neither looked much older than the other.

"It's hard to tell." Garen said, shrugging. "I think it was the end of the last rune war?" He scowled again and looked thoughtful. "I'm trying to remember what that runt said…"

"Runt?" Jarvan echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Garen grunted, his brown furrowing crossly. "The little twerp who has a thing for Lux. The one from Piltover."

"Oh?" Jarvan chuckled, a grin spreading over his mug. "Little Luxie found herself a man smart enough to keep up with her?"

"Yeah." The knight glowered, shaking his head. "Last time I ran into the two of them in the Institute facilities they were attached at the damned hip." His voice had dropped to a low growl.

"Perhaps you're being a bit over protective?" Jarvan said, still grinning. "I mean she is eighteen now."

"I know." Garen growled, shaking his head. "But I don't much care for this character. I keep getting the feeling he cares more about his studies than he does Lux…"

Jarvan laughed sharply. "He's a perfect fit for Lux then." The prince shook his head, grinning. "You remember back in school. I don't think there was ever a day that she didn't have her nose buried in a tome as thick as your head is round."

"Oh, bite me." Garen snapped back derisively at the prince. "I'm just trying to keep an eye out for my little sister. There's nothing wrong with that."

"You keep too close an eye on her and you might push her away." Alicia said, laughing. "You should be careful about that or she might get cozy with him just to spite you."

The group laughed at the scowling knight as they ground to a stop not far off from the center of town square. "Speaking of, gunny, you were headed to speak with the mayor and the Kalamandan's, right?"

Alicia nodded, jerking her thumb back at the town hall. "I'll find him in the town hall, yes?"

"Probably." Garen nodded his head. "If not there, you can check the garrison. The constables or the militia will likely know where he's at."

"Thank you, captain." Alicia said, smiling and saluting knight. "Your highness." She turned and bowed to the prince. "Take care, Shy." Alicia hugged the dragoness briefly before turning, waving, and heading off towards the town hall.

"Right, now we just need to meet someone and then we can head to the mines." He glanced up at the sky, frowning slightly as the shimmering grey clouds where the sun glimmered through like a bright golden disk. "As you know, the Noxians were instrumental in finally breaking through and beginning the rescue operations. Now that ground is actual dry, they can resume, and their representative should be here…" He spun in place, frowning slightly as he scanned the entire marketplace. "Where is she? Ah. There we are. Follow me." He took off rather quickly, and Jarvan couldn't help but grin.

Garen turned and started heading towards the center of the square again, headed towards where a red-headed figure was sitting on the edge of the fountain. As they grew closer to the fountain, Jarvan recognized the tight black leather outfit and the twin blades and brilliant red hair. Katarina du Couteau sat with her legs cross, leaning back on her arms lazily, watching as the knight approached. She leaned forward, giving the knight an ample view of her cleavage, grinning mischievously.

"Took you long enough." Katarina called at Garen as they approached, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I've been waiting for you to get back for quite a while now."

"Apologies." Garen said, grinning at her. "We got delayed at the encampment. The prince was attending to business with the king." Katarina cast Jarvan a flippant gaze before shrugging, hanging her head and sighing softly.

"Ah, well, I suppose it couldn't be avoided then." She looked back up at Garen, grinning before letting her gaze drift over his companions. "Hello, Tunis. Keeping safe?" There was an amused venom to her voice that made Jarvan's blood chill, and he felt some pity for the lieutenant who stiffened noticeably. Katarina laughed lightly, covering her mouth with a hand before flashing the lieutenant as cheerful but dangerously toothy smile. "Don't worry, Lieutenant. I won't bite… _you_." He eyes looked to the captain and she let her head fall back, laughing aloud as Garen blushed and looked away. Jarvan and Shyvana glanced at each other and then looked back to Garen. The knight tried to put on a stern look and opened his mouth to speak, but he froze mid word and clicked his jaw shut. Katarina saw this and giggled before sauntering up to him, looking up at him with an inviting smile. "What's wrong, cat got you tongue?" She made the playful motion of licking the back of her hand like a cat and then laughed aloud as the knight muttered inaudibly.

Shyvana leaned toward Tunis, getting his attention. "Are they always like this?"

"Usually, yes." Tunis said, grinning at the dragoness. "But the captain seems a bit off his game right now… usually he can keep up with her." Shyvana smothered a giggle and then watched the bristling standoff between the Demacian Knight and Noxian Assassin.

Jarvan shook his head, sighing. "How about we get moving since we're already running late? If you two need some time…" Jarvan let his grin grow as he looked to his childhood friend, chuckling softly. Katarina looked excited at the prospect, but in the moment she looked away, Garen had taken a step back and cleared his throat in an officious manner.

Garen scowled back at Jarvan, shaking his head. "No, we don't. We ready to go?" He gestured towards the north, where a well-worn thoroughfare led off the town square. He waited a few moments for any opposition and then nodded to himself. "Right, after you, your highness."

"Why thank you." Katarina purred, as she leaned forward, rising on her tiptoes to run a finger along his wide jaw, wearing a cat-like smile. "You treat me like such _royalty_ sometimes, my knight in shining armor." The sarcasm in her voice was as sharp as her blade as she laughed.

Garen rolled his eyes as Katarina strolled away at a leisurely pace, the knight finally falling into step with the prince as they headed north.


	14. Chapter 12: Mines

Jarvan looked up at the heavy stone building in front of him. It had a steep roof and chimneys rose up from many different places on the oddly crooked structure, its heavy timbers hanging out over the paving cobbles, rising up from the wide, fat base of heavy stone, built at angles to keep the building sturdy, even with the occasional rumble of tectonic activity from blasting and other natural sources. Even older than the barracks, the stone was heavy, worn and weathered, rough cut from the local quarries, darkened from years of weather. It was easily one of the oldest structures visible on the square, its roof was faded and dark, its wooden shingles crackling, splintered and broken apart, those few that still remained. Many sat around the base of the walls, either shaken or fallen off like debris. There was a rusty bracket that hung at an odd angle from above the door.

Jarvan frowned slightly, looking along the edge of the stone walls, and amid the graying shingles he saw a flash of faded red. He dropped to one knee and pulled the faded sign from the wooden scrap, brushing it off, the wood darkened and stained by something damp and rank. Despite the cracked and faded red paint, the text on the sign read "Phalon's Inn". As Jarvan looked up at the dark inn, he couldn't help but let his mind drift back to the friends he had lost. He sighed softly, the memory weighing heavily on his mind. The building had a grey cast, like the rest of the town. Jarvan knew it probably came from all the dust kicked up by the blasting and drilling, but part of him couldn't help but thought that it was like the lifeblood of the town slowly draining away.

"This was where it all began." Jarvan said softly, his fingers dragging over the raised letters. _The journey that Isaac, Forsythe, Shyvana, Quinn and I embarked upon._

"It's sad to see this place in such a state." Shyvana said softly. She slid a hand into Jarvan's and gave it a brief squeeze. "You're thinking about Isaacs, aren't you?"

"Sometimes I wish I was the one who had died." Jarvan growled softly, shaking his head. "He always knew exactly what to do, who to talk to, how to act..." Jarvan's voice faded as he let his shoulders sink. "I wish he was here now."

"You know he'd kick your ass so hard you wouldn't be able to sit for two days, right?" Shyvana said, grinning. "He'd have hated hearing you wishing you had been the one who had died." Jarvan glanced down as the dragoness smiled up at him, squeezing his hand again. "Come on. Buck up." Shyvana gently punched the prince's arm playfully. Jarvan chuckled softly, waving off the dragoness's brutal assault.

Jarvan looked back up at the inn, letting his fond memories fade to nothing. Jarvan looked over the building and grimaced at the structure, taking in all the changes from his memories to now. Dark, greasy black streaks marred the building, rising up from each window. The roof was sagging in places, darkened by fire and crumbling in on itself. The inside was almost a pure black, like a complete void in the heart of Valoran.

"Everything alright?" Tunis asked from behind. Shyvana almost recoiled visibly, pulling away from the prince. Jarvan glanced down at her and then looked over at the lieutenant, frowning. Tunis looked back and forth between the prince and the dragoness before jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards where Garen and Katarina were standing distant, the heated chatter of an argument drifting across the town square. "Captain and the _Noxian_ are wondering why you two stopped. Instead of arguing I figured I'd just come ask."

"Thank you, Tunis." Shyvana said, putting on a smile for the young lieutenant. Jarvan watched as he blushed but nodded. Jarvan tried to keep the grimace from his face, turning to watch his childhood friend and the redheaded Noxian continued to argue, both of them batting and flailing at each other in a wild manner.

 _What in the world are those two on about…_ Jarvan shook his head and sighed, turning back towards the inn. "What happened to this place?" Jarvan asked, looking over towards Shyvana but he frowned slightly when he saw that Tunis was standing right next to her, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked up at the building with a concerned gaze. The dragoness glanced over at the prince only briefly before looking to Tunis for answers.

"I think it burned a month ago?" The lieutenant shrugged and tapped a finger on his arm thoughtfully. "If I remember correctly, it was firebombed in the first weeks of the evacuation, right before we had a major presence in the town. Why?" Jarvan set his jaw, handing the sign to the dragoness. She looked up at the prince, frowning slightly at his knitted brow before looking back down at the sign he pushed into her hands.

Shyvana accepted it, slowly running her fingers over it, a sad look settling on her face. "It was my first foray into human culture as anything other than an outcast. Isaacs, Forsythe… they brought me here with the prince. We had a run in with some locals but afterwards, we partied into the late night." She chuckled softly. "I'd never drunk so much in my life. We left the morning after, but it was fun while it lasted. Right, Jarvan?" She looked up at the prince, and noticed that Jarvan was watching her.

"It was, while it lasted." Jarvan said softly, his shoulders tightening slightly as he glanced at Tunis, the corner of his mouth twitching in annoyance. _Is this about our argument before over how I treat Shyvana? What does this upstart think is going to happen by getting close to Shyvana?_

"I visited the pub here once early on." Tunis said, grinning as he looked up at the build, extending a hand to the dragoness. She handed the sign over as he stepped forward, hanging it on the bracket over the door. "It was nice. Good food, better brew… It was a shame to see it burn."

"It's sad to see it go." Shyvana murmured softy, looking at the sign swaying gently in the slowly breeze. Jarvan watched her shoulders rise and fall in a soft sigh, but when he went to try and slide his hand into hers, the dragoness stepped forward, kneeling before the door, riffling through the shingles. Jarvan grimaced, looking at the dragoness with a slight frown.

 _Did something happen?_ Jarvan frowned. "I'm going to speak to Garen." Jarvan said curtly, but Shyvana looked as if she had busied herself with her efforts of riffling through the dirt and trash. Jarvan looked to Tunis who glanced up from watching Shyvana, confusion on his face as he shrugged.

Shyvana dug through the material, finally finding what she was looking for. She brushed the dirt from the chipped corner of the sign, a smile on her face as she clapped her hands upon the metal fauld upon her thigh. She turned, beaming, looking for the prince. "Look, Jarv-… Where did he go?" Shyvana asked, frowning, glancing around. She saw the prince's retreating form as he stopped next to Garen and Katarina. Her smile slowly fell as she looked down at the fragment of the sign held in her hands, slowly running her thumbs over the raised lettering.

"Shyvana?" Tunis asked her quietly, looking down at the dragoness with a frown. The dragoness looked to him with a frown. Tunis blushed slightly, taking a step back and raising his hands in apology and surprise. "Ah! Sorry, _Miss Faust_." Shyvana blinked a few times and shook her head.

"Wha… no, it's fine." Shyvana muttered as she shook her head, looking back to Jarvan, frowning now. Tunis's face lightened slightly at the thought of getting to refer to the dragoness by her name, but it faded when he saw the worried expression on her face. She looked down at her hand, slowly closing it and pressing it to her chest. "He's never just left me before…" Shyvana's voice had fallen to a low whisper. "I suppose he's noticed… hasn't he."

"Is he mad about something?" Tunis asked, trying to sound comforting. "Did something happen between you two?"

"No, it's nothing." Shyvana said softy, shaking her head. "Well…"

"If you need someone to talk to…" Tunis said softly.

"I appreciate it." Shyvana said, offering his a sad smile. "But it's something personal between the prince and I that I haven't told him yet. I was hoping he wouldn't realize what was happening so soon, but I think he's already noticed."

"Prince Jarvan?" Tunis asked, trying to follow her gaze. "Maybe he knows, maybe he doesn't. Though it might not be anything at all. He is the prince, after all." Tunis said as evenly as possible, shrugging slightly.

Shyvana looked up at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. "What difference does that make?"

"Uh… Well, he's probably just busy and has a lot on his mind." Tunis said, watching as Shyvana's hair flared, billowing, as the dust around her feet shivered angrily. "He has many responsibilities and concerns he must focus on right now. Considering the difficult times we are facing here, it's only natural that the stress upon him would be much higher than normal…" Tunis's was talking quicker than normal, but he slowly slightly as Shyvana grunted, gently placing the sign against the door frame of the inn, before taking off after the retreating knight, prince and Noxian. "Besides… rumor is that he lost a bunch of friends near here. He might have just remembered something that's brought back some bad memories."

"I suppose." Shyvana muttered, her expression falling slightly. "I'm just worried I guess." She paused mid step, Tunis glancing down at her as she ground to a stop, watching as her expression slowly fell. Her eyes seemed to grow gaunt and distant for a few moments, her hands quivering. For a moment there were scales just starting to peak through her skin as she shivered in anger, but then, suddenly, as if swept away by a gust of wind, the fire in her eyes died, as is she had suddenly accepted defeat. "It's just like the king said…" Shyvana murmured softly, her shoulders sinking slightly. "I… I should have known better than to be so hopeful that things would be the same…"

"Shyvana?" Tunis asked, worried, placing a hand on Shyvana's shoulder and shaking her gently as if to rattle her from the mood that had struck her. "Is something the matter?"

Shyvana looked up, glancing at his hand, and then looking at the worried expression on Tunis's face. She blinked a few times, her eyes growing cloudy. "Wha-… no, it's…" Shyvana forced herself to turn away, shaking her mane of red hair out and tugging an armored glove off, wiping at her cheeks with her bare hand. She took a slow, deep breath and then exhaled heavily. She fiddled with the scale mail, tugging it on and flexing her hand to ensure it was seated properly, she turned back to the Lieutenant, offering him a wide but false smile. The officer frowned.

"Shyv—Miss Faust." Tunis said, warmly. "If you need to talk to someone, I ca-…"

"I'm fine." Shyvana said, taking a much shallower breath. "Thank you, though, Tunis. And please… call me Shyvana. Faust was my father. It sounds odd when friends call me by that name."

"Of course." Tunis nodded slowly, and though his frown still lingered on his lips for a moment, it turned into hopeful smile. "As you wish, Shyvana." He paused for a moment as if he were enjoying saying the name. "Call me Garrier if you wish." He looked hopeful again, grinning.

"Thank you." Shyvana said, smiling at him. He could see there was sadness in her eyes, but just a little of the pain that he had seen in her eyes before had gone. "Now, let's hurry before we get left behind." Her smile faded slightly. "I'll have to talk to Jarvan about it later. I don't need to distract him any further." Tunis nodded to Shyvana, following after her as they rushed to catch up to the others.

There was little chatter in the group other than Garen and Katarina discussing recent Zaunite blasting when they caught up. While some of it seemed important, much of it seemed to simply flow in one ear and out the other of the prince as he walked softly alongside his childhood friend, his gaze drifting about the once vibrant township, now muddled and seemingly cast with a dull grey blanket. The group paused long enough for Shyvana and Tunis to close the gap between them. Jarvan noticed a thoughtful frown on Shyvana's face, but as he saw her draw near, she only glanced at the prince before stopping behind Katarina. She noticed Jarvan looking at her, and smiled at him, but she glanced away as Tunis stepped up beside her. Jarvan shook his head and forced himself to look away.

As they moved through the streets, the town took a decidedly industrial turn, going from houses, inns, and other structures built for the care and comfort of humans to much more utilitarian structures. There were warehouses, trade offices, smithies, and while the rest of the town had been almost barren, the activity here was as apparent as the League's presence at the Nexus back towards the edge of the town. Miners moved to and fro, coated in dirt and speckled with rock as they pushed heavy carts laden with the fruits of their labors. Some dragged carts of nothing but stone while others carried smaller chests of precious metals, disappearing into heavy looking buildings, built like fortresses as if to stop entire armies.

There was a steady rumble and rattle of something menacing further along the crooked path. The sound of crumbling stone, the staccato roar of metal clattering against metal echoing down the heavily trafficked streets. The group stopped at a set of heavy metal rails as a team of horses brayed, the crack of their driver's whip spurring them on as the labored to drag an overladen cart forward.

"It's odd to see the town so busy." Jarvan muttered, watching as the cart trundled past, noting that there were a number of laborers pushing the cart from behind as well. "Has it been like this since the discovery of the mines?"

"Pretty much." Garen said, frowning, shrugging as he looked around. "Many of the laborers are Kalamandans who slave away trying to make what they can to send to their families, almost all of which have left the city already."

They paused, the knight's voice drowned out by the roar of a monstrously large machine that growled and snarled with angry metal clanging and the guttural roar of a techmaturgy. Wires cracked and glowed with power running along the different stages of the machine's different segments. There was a large hopper at the close end of the machine, and as the group paused on their journey, the prince watched. The rails ran up to the hopper, running just alongside it. The horses brayed and snarled from being so close to the terrifying contraption that rumbled and spewed angry black smoke. There were a number of giant boxy shapes that were all connected by heavy metal rods that spun and rattled wildly, rattling and bucking violently. The worked yanked pins from the cart as it ground to a halt, jamming heavy wooden rods into holes along the bottom of the cart and then levering up the box of the cart. It groaned as it tipped over, emptying its contents into the hopper. The machine moaned and rumbled as it spewed dust and oil, chewing up the rock and lifting it along a narrow conveyer, dumping it into a tall boxy looking machine that rumbled and shook violently as the stone poured in via the top.

The machine growled as more dust spewed into the air, grinding the stone in fine gravel. The machine shook violently, another conveyer belt carrying the gravel up to another massive boxy machine. The laborers shoved the cart further along the track, stopping it below a conveyor belt that started to dump waste material into the now waiting hopper. The rest of the rock, now glimmering with bits of metal and precious gems, was carried up another conveyor belt ran up to another machine. This one was long and heavy looking, with many conveyor belts leading off of it, condensing down to a single larger belt that carried bits of stone and dust back up to the previous machine dumping it inside. There was a final conveyor belt that led off along the back of the machine. There were platforms that ran along both sides of the convey belt as it slowly trundled along. Workers picked bits of metal and gem from the conveyor belt and placed it in holes that led down chutes, carrying the metal and precious minerals to waiting containers below, guarded by men in brutish armor and carrying war hammers they held before them at arms. The rest was dumped down a last chute into a waiting cart with heavy armor that looked as though it were a massive box on wheels.

"Zaunite treasure wagon." Garen growled, seeing Jarvan's gaze. "That machine is used to process the smaller, less dense veins. It's a monstrosity no doubt, and the noise and stink are appalling, but it does the job of a breaker crew efficiently and quickly." He snorted, shaking his head. "But there's only one of those, and the machine can't handle all of the capacity that the Zaunites blast through. They employ a number of breaker crews too. Thousands of men labor in their damn camps, working in pathetic conditions, and most live in squalor. It's appalling."

"I take it that all of the employees of Loadstone are being treated better?" Jarvan growled, looking to Garen expectantly.

"Of course, your highness." Garen said, nodding. "Conditions are far from favorable, but they are much better than average. All employees of the Loadstone Mining Consortium, partially owned by your family, receive the best working conditions in the entirety of Kalamanda. The LMC supplies bunkhouses for all laborers, three square meals, and pays on average thirty percent above other mining conglomerations."

"There are a only few groups here who have higher profit margins," Tunis explained, mostly to Shyvana, but his voice was loud enough for the entire group to hear, though it was only news to the prince and dragoness. Jarvan's attention sharped, though there was an annoyed look on his face as he watched Tunis glance back and forth between him and Shyvana, letting his gaze on the dragoness before continuing. "But the higher morale and large scale operations of the Loadstone Consortium easily surpasses the other groups who are working here in the region." He paused, glancing around, raising his voice over the growing noise. "The Zaunites try and make up the difference with their techmaturgical monstrosities, but they lose almost as much from their horrid working conditions. Only the Piltovans can top us and the Zaunites."

"What of the Noxian companies?" Jarvan asked, looking to Katarina, who immediately shot him back an annoyed expression.

"All of the Mining Companies from Noxus are privately owned." Katarina snapped, crossing her arms over her chest, though Jarvan could see the arrogance in her face as she raised her chin up, closing her eyes and smiling proudly. "However, despite our stunning lack of rules and laws about _every little aspect_ of the mining industry and its regulation, we as Noxians value strength. As such, we also recognize that useless workers, like those who are weak from lack of food or meaningful rest are useless. We might push our workers hard, but we also treat them well, and pay them fairly for their work." There was a swagger in her steps that Jarvan could only interpret at arrogance.

"Katarina…" Garen said her name softly, looking at her and frowning slightly.

"What?" Katarina said proudly, glancing over at him and preening like a cat. "You Demacians are hardly the only ones who have all their ducks in a row. We Noxians are just as capable and just and strong, if not stronger, not to mention perceptive!" Katarina laughed haughtily, giggling to herself as she turned, watching as the others slowed to a stop. She pushed herself along slowly, walking backwards, grinning as she leaned forward, casting Garen a deviously playful grin. "What, not happy if you don't get to lead the way?"

"Kat!" Garen practically shouted.

"What?" The redheaded Noxian giggled, grinning. She spun, looking back to the path, only to see that it had completely collapsed away from under her feet. The knight captain jumped forward grabbing at her wrist, as the surprise played across Katarina's face.

"Kat!" Garen shouted, extending his hand to her. Katarina glanced back at him, but where the prince expected surprise or fear, he could see that her entire demeanor had changed in an instant. Gone was the playful expression. Her hand jumped to one of the blade carried across her back as she tucked her knees into her chest, flipping about. She disappeared for a moment as she spun the blade in a glittering circle before slamming it into the slide of the cliff, reappearing as she landed nimbly on the tip. She lingered there just long enough for the knight to looked over the edge before kicking off and sending herself leaping back over the edge of the cliff, grabbing Garen's arm to turn her vertical motion horizontal, cartwheeling across the knights shoulders. She landed on both feet behind him, a smirk plastered across her face as if nothing had happened at all.

Garen stood frozen for an instant before dropping his hands to his side, hanging his head and sighing softly. He dropped to one knee at the top of the cliff, leaned over the edge, and worked Katarina's short sword out of the side of the cliff. He pushed himself up to his feet, his expression stony as he turned and presented the weapon to the redheaded Noxian. "That was a dirty trick." He scowled, shaking his head, watching as the smile seemed to grow Katarina's face. She struggled to contain her laughter for a few moments before finally tossing her head back and letting herself go.

"You should see your face right now!" Katarina finally stammered out, practically coughing she was laughing so hard. "You look like you've just seen a ghost!"

Garen grimaced, straightening up, tugging on his chest plate and smoothing his scarf slightly before turning his glare on Katarina. "I simply didn't want you getting injured. If you were under my watch, it could cause an incident!"

"An incident?" Katarina mused, grinning at him, wearing a cat-like smile as she pushed him for more info. "Oh yeah? You sure it wasn't something else?"

"Perceptive." Jarvan muttered, shaking his head as he watched the two of them start to argue again. "Yeah, as a rock, maybe." Garen refused to meet the assassin's gaze, his face a deep red, but there was a preening smile on Katarina's face as she bounced around him, trying to get him to look at her.

Shyvana giggled, stifling the laughter with her hand. "I get the distinct feeling that if June or Del were here, they'd have a stinging remark about how much they're like we used to be." Jarvan's mouth hung open for a moment but he felt a grin growing on his face, just imagining the two of them laying into him and Shyvana for judging the others.

Jarvan exhaled sharply, shrugging and nodding. "Yeah… probably."

"Are they always like this?" Shyvana asked. Jarvan looked down to the dragoness, but he noticed that Shyvana was looking at Tunis, leaning in towards him slightly and whispering, her smile wide. Jarvan forced himself to look back to the knight and Noxian, though he felt his mouth fall open again as he watched Katarina hanging off of Garen's arm like a monkey hanging from a limb. The prince shook his head in exasperation, sighing again as Shyvana looked up to him again, laughing.

Tunis grimaced, watching the show, shaking his head. "No. I've worked with the Noxian before and she's usually pretty collected and competent, if maybe a bit distracted." Jarvan glanced at Shyvana, both of them sharing a knowing look that spoke of their experiences with her. "The Captain seems to be fine though, maybe a bit more jovial than normal." He shrugged, leaning back and crossing his arms across his chest. "He's usually pretty terse with her, though recently he's been more and more relaxed around her. Together they're a bit of a moving argument. Apart they're both fine." He shook his head, watching as Katarina tossed her head back, bellowing a loud laugh as Garen blushed.

"That sounds like two of our friends, Garrier." Shyvana chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Del and Forsythe, yes?" Shyvana said, looking at the prince. A memory of how the prince's bodyguard had met a former soldier under his command and friend and the disastrous results that had followed came to mind. Jarvan snorted, but nodded, letting a grin spread across his face, though he didn't laugh, his eyes watching Tunis with a frown as the man smiled, looking at the dragoness.

 _Garrier_? _When did he become Garrier?_ Jarvan shook his head, trying to ignore the nagging thought that there might be something between them he didn't know about. He turned back to the cliff, looking out over the deep chasm that seemed to split the top to Kalamanda in two parts. "That is one massive hole." The prince muttered, leaning over the edge and looking down the cliff. It was a steep descent almost straight down into a monstrous crag that seemed to split Runeterra asunder.

"Welcome to the mines of Kalamanda." Tunis said, kicking a rock into the pit, watching it clatter down the side of the chasm. It started a small landslide of rocks and mud that grew bigger and bigger the deeper it descended, finally ending in a cloud of dust at the bottom. "Deepest open pit mine in Kalamanda." He paused, scratching his head as a grin spread over his face. "Probably the deepest in all of Runeterra."

"This is amazing." Jarvan muttered, looking out over the crevice that had be cut into Runeterra as if by some giant weapon. Even in the dim midday light, he could see the glimmer of crystal deep below. He cast a glance at Katarina, wondering just what the hell she was thinking to let herself get playful around something like that.

"They call it the 'Crystal Scar'." Garen said ominously, finally done with his argument. He had a smile on his face at fell slightly, but Katarina was looking cross, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her cheeks a nervous bright pink. "She's claimed a number of lives already."

"How many?" Jarvan asked, looking to the knight.

Garen frowned, thoughtfully. "A dozen, perhaps." He shook his head, shrugging.

"Garrier?" Shyvana said softly, drawing the other's attention to him. His fists were clenched at his side, shaking as he forced himself to take a deep breath.

"Fuckin' Zaunite scum don't know how to blast safely, and they keep causing landslides." Tunis growled, looking to Shyvana, though he was speaking loud enough so all of them could hear. "They're trying to mine as much as they can before the rights are given to a single nation, and they're sloppy. They simply guess with amounts of explosives that could kill hundreds."

"Has their blasting killed anyone, yet?" Shyvana asked frowning.

"Not directly." Tunis shrugged. "But the aftermath? Definitely." There was anger in his voice that seemed to speak of the loss of someone he cared for. "Too much rock and too little skill if you ask me. You remember that gigantic monster of a crusher? The one spitting all the dust and crap into the air?" Shyvana nodded. "That's their automated processor. Techmaturgical marvel, yes, but its causes them to be sloppy. They dump all they mine, crystal, rock and all, into a big hopper. It chews it all up and then they smelt it all down. The crystal floats on the heavy rock slag, so they filter that out. Then they skim what precious metals they can off the top, form it into ingots which gets shipped off to a factory somewhere in Zaun where they smelt it down again and process it into workable materials."

"Sounds efficient." Shyvana remarked, wrinkling her nose slightly as she sniffed the air. There was a distinct stench in the air from the molten rock and some of the stone that had been harvested from belly of Runeterra.

They moved past the crystal scar and moved on towards a shallower cut that wound off and around the main open pit mine. There were derricks lined along the edges of the shallower pit, stretching high over the gash, dropping down towards a small hole that was carved in the ground, the cables disappearing inside. There was a deeper cut just before the hole, where an entrance was collapsed. There were number workers moving about along the entrance, working with shovels and teams of horses to carefully pull rock out of the way before hauling it off.

"Welcome to Loadstone Mining Consortium mine number one." Garen said, gesturing towards the mines below. The bowl of a pit was deep with mine tunnels reinforced and splayed out around the pit like There were a number of tents set out below them like a small city, workers and different people moving about, working on one thing or another. One of the derricks coughed to life and there was a shout of action the turned into a dizzying buss of excitement below. The derrick started to rumbled, the winch slowly drawing the cable out of the hole. "And it looks like they about to rescue the last of the trapped miners."

Jarvan nodded, letting his eyes roam the mining facilities spread out below him, interspersed with heavy equipment and tents upon tents that were littered about, practically consuming every spare bit of space that was flat enough to be used. Garen paused at the edge of the cliff, looking down into the pit below. There was a gradual road that curved around the entire width of the pit, a cart driven by horses slowly laboring up the last turn, quickly approaching the prince and his entourage. Garen frowned, looking at the road, then glancing down the steeped ledge that fell away into the pit. There was a steep staircase carved out of the wall that descended straight to the edge of the camp.

"This way, everyone." Garen said, waving them forward, gesturing down the narrow and rather precarious looking steps. He paused watching as a pair of men rose through the small hole, lifted high by a derrick. "They've already got the last miner out! Here's a shortcut we can take. If we hurry we can get there right as they're taking him to the

"Don't you think we should go around?" Katarina asked, glancing over the edge, looking down along the cliff, her voice hesitant.

"What, you afraid of a little fall?" Garen chuckled, grinning imperiously as he looked down at the redheaded assassin, her arms crossed uncomfortably. Garen crossed his arms over his chest, his grin growing wider as he watched the Noxian squirm. "As limber as you are and as much as you like to jump around, this is surprising, Kat."

The Noxian looked up at him, her cheeks burning a brilliant red, her arms tightening across her chest. Garen glanced down at her, his cheeks tinged pink as something dangerous flashed through her green eyes as she glanced up at the knight. She reared her arm back and jabbed Garen in the side, right below the breast plate, hissing in anger as she lifted her nose up, turning away. "Idiot."

"Sh-hall we?" Garen groaned, gesturing towards the camp, halfway bent over, his smile screwed up in pain. He hobbled a single step towards the steps, his hand shuddering as he gestured towards the camp beyond.

"Hold on a second." Tunis said, frowning as he stepped forward. He dropped to a knee atop the highest step, driving his knife into the ground and wiggling it slightly. "The ground is soft from all the blasting and the rain. I don't want anyone getting hurt." Jarvan saw his gaze dart up to Shyvana, a charming smile on his lips.

"Let's stop wasting our time." Jarvan grunted, shaking his head. _Now he's starting to get on my nerves._

"After you, cap." Garen perked up at this, pushing himself up to his full height as if nothing had ever happened. Katarina's mouth hung open in surprise as she looked up at him in confusion. He took a step down, testing the ground cautiously, frowning slightly. "Like Tunis said, just watch the ground. The mining creates a lot of mud." Jarvan grimaced, noting that there was quite a bit of mud, and at the bottom of the steep hill there was a field of heavy boulders, pulled from the ground and now sitting along a long drainage ditch that ran into the larger pit.

Jarvan nodded absently, stepping forward onto the path that descended down into the pit and the waiting camp. His boot struck mud and his foot immediately skidded out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. He dropped hard, the ground seeming to part, cracking and rumbling underneath, cracks zigzagging out from where Tunis had jammed his knife into the ground. For a moment the hillside was perfectly still, Jarvan glancing back at the others. He started to push himself to his feet, but the rumble started again as the entire section of the cliff side shook, shifting away from the cliff, seeming to part and fall away from beneath him.

"Jarvan!" Shyvana lunged forward, grabbing the collar of the prince's armor, holding on desperately, but as she planted her feet to try and stop his descent down the hill, she simply sank into the mud, the ground crumbling around her, sinking her nearly to the top of the ankles. She snarled, losing her footing, toppling forward behind the prince as more of the mud came loose beneath her panicked attempts to try and regain her footing, eroding around her, starting to consume her, the mud turning into a rolling, toiling mass of darkness. Shyvana snarled, wings of flame and heat billowing around her as she tried to get her feet underneath herself, but the ground seemed to be rolling around her, keeping her turning and writhing on the wild landslide. "Get me upright!" Jarvan shouted, clinging to his lance.

"Hold on!" Shyvana shouted back, waiting only a brief moment before rearing her fist back and slamming the larger gauntlet of her pair into the ground. She poured flames out through her gauntlet, the mud hardening as steam exploded upwards. Shyvana screamed, though it turned into a vicious snarl as the prince's weight practically threatened to pull her apart. Jarvan jerked about, ending right side up atop the writhing, muddy mass.

"Release!" Jarvan shouted, and as if my instinct, Shyvana immediately released his collar. Jarvan, now upright, slammed his lance around his body, driving it hard into the ground behind him, slapping the trigger, blasting a standard deep into the soft ground. He looked up just in time to Shyvana snarl as the hardened mass of mud she had anchored to hit something and bucked, tossing her into the air. Shyvana flailed as Jarvan flipped his lance about, triggering the lance again, the lance exploding below him, launching him into the air. Jarvan crashed into Shyvana midair, wrapping his arms around her as their trajectory turned horizontal, arcing down towards the mud again.

"Hold on!" Shyvana snarled, pushing Jarvan away. Jarvan rolled slightly, watching as fire consumed Shyvana's form, her body starting to expand, her skin hardening from a dark, leathery blue to hardened, armored blue grey, scale gleaming along her skin as she snarled, tossing her head about, roaring angrily. Horns burst from her head, curving up and back around her head as her nose elongated into a snot, her teeth lengthening and sharpening into vicious fangs. Her body exploded outwards, expanding into a terrifying monstrous creature, smooth leathery flaps stretching along her massive wings, razor sharp fangs and talons and powerful muscles that flow along her heavy frame. Shyvana roared, tossing her head about as the sound echoed across the entire valley. Shyvana folded her wings back along her body, rolling and diving sharply, extending her legs forward, snatching the prince out of the air and tossing him up as she rolled again, pulling up along the ground. Shyvana snarled, spreading her wings wide, flapping hard and fighting for altitude as they dropped towards the ground. The prince's boots skimmed along the ground as Shyvana flapped, finally getting some lift as she slowed. She hovered, flapping for several moments as she looked down at the prince.

"Nice catch." Jarvan remarked, grinning, looking up at the dragoness. Shyvana grunted, jetting steam from her nostrils, as she flapped, hanging in place. Already, there were hundreds of onlookers gathering as Shyvana listed slowly downwards towards the ground where the last of the rescued workers were now waiting. Shyvana set Jarvan on the ground, letting him stand as she pushed herself up with several mighty flaps of her monstrous wings, dropping down next to him, the ground shuddering under her heavy frame. The gathered works all stumbled backwards from around her, their eyes wide in a mix of fear and amazement. There was silence around the group as Jarvan shuddered, shaking his shoulders off, feeling the strain of having Shyvana's claws wrapped around his shoulders so firmly. He grimaced, looking up at Shyvana, stretching his neck. "Thanks for the save, but next time, try and be a little gentler, yeah?" Shyvana snorted, blowing steam over the prince. Jarvan chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"Next time, don't do something so careless." Shyvana rumbled, snapping her fangs derisively at the prince. She glared at him for a moment, but there was a smile on the prince's face as he rested a hand against her snout, patting her gently.

"Thanks, Shy." Jarvan whispered so only she could hear him. The dragoness bowed her head to the prince before tossing it back and roared, snarling. As she lowered her head, she looked upon the gathered workers, medical staff and miners circled around her massive form and the prince, but all of them kept their distance, fear and disbelief on their faces. Many of them looked to the prince in awe and disbelief, as if they expected her to snap him up and devour him in a matter of moments.

"Your highness!" Garen shouted from atop the wall, peering over the edge, looking down to where Shyvana and Jarvan now stood. Jarvan turned and waved up at the knight, who was already quickly descending the road at a road.

"Bloody hell, your highness…" A gruff, dirty looking man in coveralls took a half step forward, breaking from the crowd, his eyes wide as he looked on after the dragoness. "You sure know how to make an entrance… shit, sir, I want a mount like that. Where do I sign up?"

 _"_ _A MOUNT LIKE THAT?!"_ Shyvana snarled, lunging forward and snapping at the man. He shouted in terror, dropping down to the ground as Shyvana loomed over him, her snout mere inches from his face. _"I'm not a horse."_ Shyvana hissed angrily, blowing steam at the man, watching as he cowered, trying to push himself deeper into the mud in terror. Shyvana slowly raised her head, looking slowly around the group. _"If anyone but the prince here tries to so much as touch me, much less_ mount _me, I will burn them with such heat that their ashes will not be able to fill up a fist!"_ Shyvana shivered, shaking her body violently as she dropped down onto the ground, shrinking slowly as she returned to her bipedal, human-like appearance. Steam boiled from the ground around her as she shivered, slowly pushing herself up to her feet, her armor steaming. Shyvana shook her body, casting dust and dried mud from her body as she looked out over the group, seeing each and every one of them looking on in stunned surprise.

The half dragon looked down at the man who was crumpled in the mud. She took two long strides, her leathery skin a deep blue grey in the dim light, flashing oranges as sparks and motes of flames danced beneath her armored soles. She leaned down and grabbed the man who had fallen by the collar, lifting him to his feet with a single hand, looking squarely into his eyes. She could see her golden orange orbs reflected in his small dark eyes. "You had best remember that." She snorted, shooting steam at him before turning back to the prince. Jarvan stood watching with a grin as Shyvana blushed lightly. The dragoness closed her eyes and hissed as the horns slowly retracted back into her head, She shook uncomfortably, her hands grabbing at her head as she shivered violently, groaning in pain. The onlookers all seemed to sink back in surprise. The area was perfectly quiet for several long moments.

"Shy…" Jarvan said, worriedly, wrapping an arm around her waist as her stance faltered, threatening to send her tumbling to the ground.

"I'm alright." Shyvana said softly, shaking her head, though she held onto the prince's arm. "Just a bit winded is all. It was easier near the nexus." She laughed softly, looking up at the prince and blush. "And that feeling…" Shyvana stood up, rising to her full height at the top of Jarvan's shoulder, shaking her head. "No matter how many times it happens, I can never get used to it."

"You've made quiet the show, Prince Jarvan." The voice was amused, light in tone and cheerful. The sea of onlookers parted as an older looking man with a bushy mustache, a heavily receding hairline, brilliant pink cheeks and a glowing nose. His mustache twitched excitedly as he looked at the dragoness and the prince, looking back and forth between the two of them, a growing smile on his face. "Though, I never thought I'd see the day where the dragons soared over Kalamanda once again." Behind the man stood a blonde woman with soft features and piercing blue eyes. She carried a sword upon her belt, but that was hardly the most remarkable feature. Massive white wings were folded behind her, and as she looked over the prince and dragoness with interest, there was a shiver of excitement that run up and down her wings. Next to her stood a woman armed with Demacian armor and plate, a smile on her face. She had snowy white hair, red eyes, and extremely pale skin. She looked out of place next to the others.

"Gunny Juniper." Jarvan said, surprised by her appearance. "I thought you were back in the town?" Jarvan felt the dragoness go rigid next to him, and all of a sudden Shyvana stepped away from the prince. Jarvan looked down at her frowning, wondering what could have caused the change, but before he could ask, Alicia had stepped forward and bowed to the king.

"No sir." Alicia said, shaking her head. "My apologies for not communicating with you, but I was directed here by a constable at the barracks."

"Oh." Jarvan muttered, shaking his head, prying his gaze away from the now rigid, blushing dragoness, as he looked for Garen and Katarina, wondering if Tunis had arrived, but he could see the three of them only getting close to the bottom of the hill. Jarvan looked back to the gunny, trying to shake off his confusion, noticing that all eyes were on him. "I…. I hadn't realized we'd wasted so much time."

"I don't know if you'd call it wasted, but it was certainly remarkable." The balding man said, nodding slowly, a smile starting to spread on his face. "Miss Juniper, perhaps introductions are in need?"

"Ah, of course." Alicia said, her cheeks going a rosy pink. "Where are my manners?" She paused for a brief moment, looking between the balding man and Jarvan, and while it was clear that both knew the other, there was still protocol and courtesy at stake here. "Prince Jarvan IV, may I present Mayor of Kalamanda, Anson Ridley, and Lady Judicator Kayle."

"How interesting a treat to finally get to meet you…" The mayor chuckled softly, his eyes noticeably darting towards the dragoness. "Though, if you do excuse my prying eyes, your lady dragon has caught my attention. Dragons have always been a… ah, menace we've faced as a small border town. To welcome one so readily…" He chuckled, nervously, wiping sweat form his tremendous brow. "You'll excuse me if I'm a tad bit jumpy."

"My apologies." Shyvana said gruffly, her voice faint. "If my presence disturbs you..." Jarvan glanced back and saw annoyance written on her face. He suppressed the urge to laugh.

"No, it is no worry." The mayor said, his eyes hovering on the dragoness. He glanced up at the hill where an angry, dark streak marred the mud where the landslide had occurred. The rocks at the bottom of the hill had done their job to keep the mud at bay though, breaking its momentum and diverting the forward motion of the landslides sideways and onto itself. "You really did a number on the hillside though." He mused, shaking his head. "What happened?"

"Get out of the way!" There was a murmur of excitement as several people pushed their way through to the front of the crowd. Garen was massive compared to many of the workers, in both height and width. "Your highness…" He panted, glaring at Jarvan. "I… I had no idea the path was so dangerous or I would have never suggested it…"

"I'm fine, thanks to Shyvana." Jarvan said, looking down at him. "Just a few cuts and-..."

A sudden warm sensation descended upon the prince, as if all the blood in his veins had suddenly been turned to magma. There was a searing pain that consumed his body, as if he were being cooked, inside and out. He blinked a few times, his eyes watering as he tried to shake off the pain, but the area before him grew woozy and fuzzy, as if his vision were fading. The workers, the mayor, and all the gathered onlookers seemed to fade into a single, distant blob of darkness

 _I need to speak with you. It is urgent._

Jarvan shivered, taking a slow, deep breath. The voice cut through his mind like a red-hot knife. Jarvan looked up, scanning the crowd. Only one form stood out to him, possessing brilliant golden armor as he looked into their pair of piercing blue eyes.

 _I know that voice…_

 _I'm glad you remember._ Kayle's lips twitched as if she were about to smile. _Dispense of your comrades for now. I shall take care of the rest._

As suddenly as the sensation had struck, it was gone again, receding from Jarvan's mind like a snake, slithering from his ears. Jarvan shivered, suddenly feeling cold in the absence of the fiery presence.

"Jarvan?" Shyvana was bent over him, a worried look on her face. "What happened? Are you well?" Jarvan held his head for a moment and groaned, grimacing, trying to blink away the burning pain he felt.

"I…" Jarvan glanced to the judicator and grimaced. "I think that fall took it out of me. Mayor Ridley… Is there someone who could look over my injuries and that on my companion?"

The mayor, portly as he was, looked dumbstruck for several moments, however he slowly nodded. "Yes of course." He glanced around. "Foreman, can spare the men?"

The cross looking man in coveralls who Shyvana had sent to his tail before nodded, shaking his head slightly. "Yeah, we've got a few tents open. My men are dealing with the landslide for now, but I should be able to spare a few now that we've got the last of the miner's free of the mine."

"Good." The mayor said, nodding as the foreman turned towards the onlookers and started dispersing them back to their tasks. A few men dressed in white fatigues approached, some of them moving about and gathering up materials as the rest moved off, soft chatter among their numbers.

Jarvan scanned the crowd for a moment, grimacing at the thought of the instructions, and there was an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, but he needed to meet with Kayle in private. Standing behind Garen, he found the soldier he was looking for. "Lieutenant Tunis." Jarvan said softly, glancing to Shyvana, and back to Tunis, watching the surprise play over his face. "Can you see to Shyvana's wounds?"

"Sir?" Tunis said, surprised, but he nodded slowly, his eye narrowing at the prince. "Of course sir. I'll see that she is well tended to."

Jarvan grimaced, not liking the tone of the man's voice, but what was done was done. _I will sort out what's going on with him later._ Jarvan felt a surge of pain cut through his skull, the warm heat dulling his vision for a moment.

The dragoness turned and glared at the prince, a frown growing on her face. "Jarvan, but what abou-…" Shyvana started to protest, but the surprisingly calm look that Jarvan gave her silenced her protests.

"Get yourself taken care of." Jarvan said, trying to smile at Shyvana, but the gesture faded slightly as winced against the pain. He took a slow deep breath, his temple pounding as he looked up at Shyvana and took a slow breath, offering her a weak smile. "I won't order you, but do this for me. You already saved me... look after yourself now."

Shyvana remained next to the prince for a moment before taking a slow breath. She looked at the prince as if she wanted to throw her arms around him and tell him to shut up, but Jarvan watched as the light in her eyes faded slightly. She pushed herself to her feet, just barely letting her fingers brush against Jarvan's hand as she stood up. "Alright." Shyvana said softly, turning to the lieutenant. Tunis smiled at her, and she tried to return the gesture, but stole a look back to the prince. _He wants me to go with Tunis? Why does he not want me at his side?_

A man in a white coat kneeled next to the prince, setting and opening a bag upon the ground, digging through it, finally pulling out a light source. "Doctor, I can tend to the prince's wounds." Kayle said, gesturing to the prince, bowing her head. "Perhaps you can tend to Miss Faust?"

"Very well." The doctor said, eying the judicator. "As you wish, ma'am." He turned to the dragoness, looking at her with a frown for a moment as id sizing her up and then glanced at the prince before turning to Shyvana and Tunis. He nodded, picking up his bag. "Right, then. Lieutenant, Gunny, if you want to follow me, we'll see if we can't clean you up a bit."

"Okay." Shyvana said softly. She looked to Jarvan, and frowned. His shoulders were tight and tense, but it was more than possible that it he could have just been shaken up. She tried not to let it bother her, but the king's warning to her came back to mind and she had to fight to keep her composure. She took a deep breath and exhaled again slowly. _Perhaps it is for the best if we're separate for now._ She looked to Jarvan offering him a sad smile, but the prince looked lost in thought. She watched him for a bit, "Let's go Tunis." The two of them followed the doctor away.

"Garen, can you see to the miner who was just rescued?" Jarvan asked, grimacing against the pounding headache. "I'd like to speak with him and those who rescued him when my wounds have been tended to." He paused, glancing to Katarina. "Were there any Noxians among them? I'd like to thank them first hand if there were."

"Of course, Jarvan." Garen said, glancing down at Katarina. "Do you know?"

"I don't, but I'll go with Garen and check." Katarina said, eying Jarvan and the turning to watch Shyvana's retreating form with trepidation, narrowing her eyes slightly.

"Thank you." Jarvan said, hissing as he pressed his hand to his head.

"I need to tend to the prince now." Kayle said, glaring at Kat and Garen for a moment until Garen nodded.

"Of course, Kayle." Garen said, almost too excitedly. He turned to Jarvan and bowed his head. "Again, Jarvan, my sincerest apologies…."

"Just go before you make this headache worse." Jarvan groaned, glaring at his friend, getting a sheepish grin back from the knight.

"Yes sire." He turned to Katarina and gestured away. Katarina muttered something inaudible under her breath as she glanced at Garen, casting him an annoyed look. However, her expression softened for a moment and she blushed, shaking her head and following after her.

"This way." Kayle said, gesturing towards a tent as she helped the prince to his feet. Once Jarvan was standing, she turned to the mayor. "Mayor Ridley, if you'll excuse us? I believe you needed to finish your business with Miss Juniper, correct?"

"Ah, yes." The mayor said, clapping his hands. "Thank you for reminding me. With all the excitement, I'd completely forgotten." He turned to the young Demacian soldier, beaming, as if he were a child who had just received a wonderful Snowdown gift. "Now, where were we? I was just showing you the demolition bunker, yes? The foreman here can show us more. Where did he go…" He wandered off with Juniper in his wake, continuing to talk to himself.

Kayle moved past the prince, ducking her wings inside a tent, turning and holding it open for the prince. Jarvan eyed her with trepidation but stepped inside, glancing about. There were a few empty cots and small tables, a lantern flickering on a larger central table atop a map.

"There's much I need to speak with you about." Kayle said as the flap fell shut behind her. She waved her hand along the prince's face and immediately Jarvan gasped, the relief flooding over him. "My apologies for the reckoning… you apparent need of medical attention only strengthens our cover while we speak."

"Seems unnecessary." Jarvan muttered, rubbing his temples as he dropped down onto one of the cots that lined the walls. He sighed softly, finally looking up into the winged being's azure eyes. "I figured you'd come calling."

"There's a dark plot looming over Kalamanda, prince." Kayle said ominously. "And you, are right at the center of it all."


	15. Chapter 13: Judicator

Kayle set her helmet on the table, closing her eyes, taking a deep breath and exhaling again, letting a soft incantation pass her lips. Jarvan could not make out the words, but he heard the words begin to swirl and warp into an inhuman moan, as if they had been picked up by the wind and whipped into a twisted whisper. The heavy canvas of the tent rustled playfully, dancing on the gust of wind that swirled around the room before suddenly settling, as if some power had instantly frozen the air. Jarvan glanced around the room, feeling the dead air suddenly pushing in on him, leaving him short of breath. He exhaled slowly and then inhaled again, letting his breathing become slow and deep and after a few seconds his ears popped, like when climbing along the jagged cliff of the Demacian coastline as a boy. He had to swallow a few times to try and rid himself of the odd feeling that was pressuring his eardrums, as the ethereal being let her attention settle on the prince.

"The sensation will pass in a few moments." Kayle said, exhaling inaudibly, a thin but knowing grin lighting upon her lips. The prince turned to look at her, his cheeks start to flood with color, his chest starting to burn as if he were drowning. The ethereal being's head fell, her fingers lacing together in a silent prayer. Jarvan watched incredulously, the realization that she was casting a second incantation only dawning upon him after he opened his mouth to use his last breath to cry for help. As if on cue, the air suddenly shuddered, and it began to flow around the prince like normal. "Now, we can speak at length without anyone overhearing us. Less we are physically interrupted, our conversation will not carry further than this tent." The prince sucked in a breath, the cool air tasting sweet upon his tongue as he gasped, panting softly as he gripped at this throat, his eyes lingering on the winged creature with disbelief, tugging at the collar of his tunic beneath his cuirass, loosening it slightly.

"You're being much less discreet this time." Jarvan muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he grumbled under his breath, rubbing his side where the burning had struck him. The shortness of breath and his labored breathing had caused an ache in his side where he had been afflicted, and now a stitch seemed to be glowing red hot along his side, curling up from his waist to his shoulder blade. He grunted, shifting uncomfortably. "Last time you froze the entirety of the Demacian Legislative Council and this time you magically assaulted the crown prince." Jarvan let a crooked grin slide onto his face. "What's next? A personal duel with the king for the right to speak with me?" Jarvan grinned wryly as he looked to the Judicator, wondering how she would react to his biting words, but what he saw surprised him.

Kayle had settled on one of the cots, her wings drooping slightly as she sighed, hanging her head, running her hands through her golden-blonde hair, letting it cascade around her face. She sighed softly a second time, looking up at Jarvan, her azure eyes alive with electric color as she offered him a thin, tired smile. There were more creases in her face, lines hardened by stress and effort, and it looked as if the immortal being had aged a hundred years in a matter of a few months. The skin was hardened around her eyes and bunched up, as if she had seen too much and had gotten too little sleep, however the tired look about her did not diminish the energetic spark that danced in her eyes. "You have this much cheek after my Reckoning?" She chuckled softly, her voice as rich and as full of strength as Jarvan remembered from his previous encounter. "Perhaps next time I should hit a bit harder so it is more convincing."

"No thanks." Jarvan said curtly, shaking his head. "I can still taste the blood." Jarvan snorted, looking over to the winged being across from him, a frown sliding onto his face. He laid his lance down at his feet, just before the cot behind him.

Kayle gestured for the prince to come closer as he started to drop down to sit upon the cot opposite the judicator, patting the cot she sat upon, right beside her. "Sit so I can tend to your wounds while we speak. It would appear suspicious if you left my care without any change to your health." Jarvan frowned slightly, but the Judicator cracked a warm smile, looking up at the towering Demacian prince, seeing his hesitation. "And do not worry, my healing magic is far more advanced than that of the peoples of Runeterra. At most, you might feel a little warmth."

Jarvan was wary, but he nodded, dropping down onto the seat next to the Judicator. "My apologies if I seem reluctant; I have learned to doubt medical treatment offered by others." Jarvan said, watching the Judicator's expression. "I prefer the old fashion way, compared to something quick and painful, if you do not mind."

The Judicator laughed softly, nodding at him. "I understand the hesitation, but you need not worry." Kayle said, scooting over slightly as Jarvan dropped to the cot. He groaned softly as he leaned forward, his shoulder protesting. Kayle gently ran her hand along the surface of Jarvan's armor, a slight frown creasing her brow. "May I remove your armor?"

"Do what you must." Jarvan said, exhaling slowly, sitting up and starting to release the leather straps that held his armor in place. He paused, turning to look intently at the winged being. "Before we go any further…"

"You wish to see proof of my identity, correct?" Kayle asked, anticipating his question, folding her hands into her lap. Jarvan frowned, watching the even expression upon her face but he finally nodded.

"Yes." The prince was still watching her, vigilance in his eyes. "My apologies, but everyone tells me I must be wary of those who surround me, and those who I surround myself with."

"That is wise." The Judicator paused for a moment, her even brow furrowing slightly. "I do not know what I can offer to prove my identity, but if it is any comfort to you, if I wished you dead, you would be dead." Kayle's words were serene, a blank, emotionless expression appearing upon her face.

The prince shivered, seeing the cold, almost calculating, look in her eyes, crackling with azure fire that gazed upon him as though he were a bug to be squashed. Jarvan felt cold fear grip his heart, clutching tight around chest with an icy grasp. _I have seen eyes like that before, the eyes of a creature who is neither human nor knows human fear. Kampf had those eyes._ Jarvan scoffed, trying to hide his trepidation, putting on a false grin, but the Judicator had already read the moment of weakness in his eyes. The corners of her mouth quivered, as if she were trying to suppress a smile. "And how would you do that?" He chuckled softly. "I see no sword and your magic merely slowed me before."

"You must be wary, prince." The blonde said with a sly smile sliding across her face. "Magic comes in many forms, and while you have likely seen many forms of it, there are magicks the likes of which are foreign to even you."

Jarvan felt the cot he was sitting upon shift underneath him and his arms shot out around him, as if to steady his balance. "Wha-…!?" The prince barked, but as he looked down, his voice caught in his throat. A shimmering, golden liquid was slowly starting to widen and spread under his feet, rolling over his greaves, arcing slowly up all around him, as if it were dripping upward from the ground along some large spherical shape, slowly forming a bubble. "What is this!?" Jarvan hissed as he jumped up, but the bubble was liquid and as he tried to step from the encroaching danger, the material stuck to his armored greaves like tar, binding him stickily to the material, holding him down. "Stop!" Jarvan hissed, the material rising further around him, expanding and slithering up about him, hissing, bubbling, and humming softly as it coiled and rose, forming a sphere. The material rose and coiled around him, shivering angrily as it coiled around the prince. He reached out, trying to grab and push it back, but the material simply flowed around his fingers, continuing to close the orb, wrapping tighter around him, binding his hands. "Kayle!" Jarvan shouted. "Enough!" The material stopped moving, forming a hollow, perfect orb around the prince, the surface smooth, almost like glass aside from the subtle ripples in the surface.

Kayle stood up, stepping forward to the prince, the orb humming louder and louder as she stepped closer, both the angel and the orb starting to glow with a soft, warm, golden light. Fire hissed around her head, sparkling brilliantly as it carved a halo through the air, wreathing her head in flames. The halo flickered and crackled, burning brightly above her as she looked imperiously down at the prince. "Now you see my true strength." Kayle whispered softly, her hand descending in front of her and wrapping around an invisible shape. She lifted it up, a brilliant, fiery light gleaming as she pulled her sword from thin air, the golden blade glimmering with dangerous but just power. The Judicator lifted her flame-wreathed blade and held it to the prince's neck. Jarvan could feel the warmth of the flame licking his skin, but they were not hot, merely tepid against his skin. "If I wished you dead, you would have dropped instantly when you stepped into this tent. But I do not wish you dead. I wish for your help."

Jarvan glared back at her with defiance in his eyes, though he sighed softly, hanging his head and shivering as the material flowed around him. "Very well. Release me and let us speak."

Kayle smiled, looking at the prince, her azure eyes sparkling like lightning. She lifted her blade again, letting it fall in her hands, rotating around the hilt till she held it down. She closed her eyes and below her, a brilliant light erupted, sparkling and burning brilliantly. She slowly pushed the blade back into the ethereal sheath, the handle disappearing when the burning golden light touched the hilt of the weapon. The halo of flame hissed softly as it disappeared, leaving only the vague warmth curling slowly through the tent. Kayle stepped forward, reaching a hand out and tapped the golden orb with a single finger. A wave of ripples rolled over the entire surface of the orb as if it were the surface of a glassy body of water, the bubble shivering slightly before retreating the way it came, returning to nothing.

Jarvan exhaled explosively, dropping down to his knees, panting softly, grasping at the ground in disbelief. He raised a hand to his neck, holding it there as he looked at the judicator, a newfound fear and respect for her terrifying power. "What _was_ that?" Jarvan hissed softly, trying desperately to regain his composure, though as he pushed himself to his feet, his knees were still shaking. He had not known fear like that since he and Shyvana had faced Kampf the first time together. _She is on a completely different level. It…_ she _is terrifying._

"The physical appearance of my divine power, the last strength afforded to me by my world." Kayle said softly, lifting a hand and closing her eyes. She began to glow a soft golden color for a as a small golden orb appeared in her palm. It flowed and bobbed like a liquid, but it shimmered and gleamed like pure, polished gold. She gestured her hand forward and the orb floated towards the prince. Jarvan frowned as it approached, involuntarily taking a half step backward, earning him a soft laugh from the Judicator. "Do not worry, it will not harm you." Kayle said, gesturing to the orb. It bobbed serenely, like an apple floating in a bowl of water. Jarvan frowned back at the woman but reached cautiously out and poked the small golden orb. It made a sound like a drop of water when touched. "It is my intervention, an ethereal embodiment of my power and will. It obeys my every command, be is to shield an ally… _or to crush a foe_." The quiet fury in her voice sent a shiver up the prince's spine.

"I pray I never face you in a fight." Jarvan said softly, grimacing as he looked back to the ethereal being.

"You need not worry." Kayle said, sinking to her cot, her shoulders sinking slightly as she exhaled softly. "I come to you with many things I need to ask, and the hope of finding at least some answers to my problems." The Judicator's light seemed to ebb slightly as she sat down, breathing slowly, closing her eyes.

"What ails you, Judicator?" Jarvan asked, looking evenly at the winged being, an even expression upon his face as he glanced about. The air had gone very still again in the absence of the golden power, and his voice sounded slightly muted, but he could only chalk it up to the effects of the judicator's earlier spell fluctuating with the power in the air.

"Please, enough of the formalities." The ethereal being said, offering the prince a soft, almost pained smile. "Judicator is merely a title afforded to me by my position within the Institute, and it has been far too long since I've had a friend with which I could converse without having to watch my own back." There was shaky exhaustion slowly creeping into the beautiful being's voice as she looked up at the prince. "Please, address me as you would address a friend."

Jarvan watched her, pity settling in his stomach like ice. "Very well, Kayle." Jarvan said, turning slightly so he could better look at the woman. "I do not think I have ever seen you looks so weary before."

"There is much that weighs heavily upon my mind." Kayle said, shaking her head and pushing herself up slightly. She rested her elbows upon her knees, lacing her fingers before her, perching her chin atop her hands. "The recent strains upon the Institute has brought painful memories back to mind, and I am not terribly fond of the recent past."

Jarvan set his jaw, looking intently to the Judicator. Kayle noticed his serious glare and sighed softly, a look of finality settling upon her face, as if something she dreaded was fast approaching. "I do not wish to cause you undo emotional distress, but there is one thing I must ask first before we continue."

"I knew this question was coming as well." Kayle said sagely, nodding somberly. "Do not despair, not all of the memories are painful." She paused for a brief moment, her expression slowly smoothing, as if she were gathering up her courage. "You wish to know why I am helping you, to know what possible reason could I have to assist you, correct?"

"Yes." Jarvan said simply, not letting the intensity of his glare falter.

"Very well." There was a thin but tired smile upon her face. "I respect your honesty, prince, and in interest of said honesty and trust between us, I shall explain my reasoning in full." The Judicator paused, taking a slow, calming breath before looking back up to the prince. "The short answer is my sister."

"You have a sister?" Jarvan said, blinking slowly, frowning. "But I thought you came from another dimension… another world completely?" Jarvan frowned and then shut his mouth, shaking his head. "I apologize. That was a tactless question."

Kayle chuckled softly, raising a hand and waving the prince off. "I do come from another dimension, a world far, far away." Kayle nodded, her expression turning dark and haunted. "And once upon a time, I did have a sister who I loved very much. In my world, I was the general of my world's army, protecting a race of immortals, my forces committed to destroying evil wherever I could find it. For tens of thousands of years, I fought for my peoples, wielding my sword and a furious might to strike down darkness, shouldering the burden of my people alone. But darkness is found wherever there is light, and while it might not always been seen, it always creeps back, oozing and filling every space it can. I fought and I fought, and in my quest for victory over darkness, I was merciful. I lifted every being I could from the darkness to return them to the light, but sometimes, there were those who had fallen so far to the darkness that the only redemption they could be offered was death." The angelical being exhaled slowly, letting the many millennia show in her expression.

"A decade ago, my sister, one who had never agreed with our society's moralities, decided that she was tired of the bonds of our people and shed her ties to our world, casting herself out, a pariah. She embraced the dark magicks, calling us tyrants and dictatorial monsters, growing in immense power as she channeled the darkness through herself." Kayle paused, looking to her hands in regret. "She threatened to destroy our world with her desire for rebellion and thirst for power, and responsibility of dealing with her fell to me, the last peacekeeper in a world where peace was almost a right, guaranteed to all. On that day, my sister died. She shed all ties to our family. Her body was twisted by the dark magicks, and there was a terrible power brewing, one that threatened to tear our world asunder. I went to confront her, and as we battled, I incinerated her wings with my sword, wreathed in flame, destroying the last vestiges of her attachments to our society and our family. Freed of these bonds, she fled our dimension, fleeing to a small wayward world known as Runeterra. Your world." Kayle looked up at the prince. While the energy hadn't returned, there was a fire in the woman's eyes that sent a shiver up the prince's spine.

"With devastation wracking my world caused by her reckless magic, a massive portal left own, ripped through space and time, my people were faced with horrific magicks we had never encountered before, cast upon our world by my vengeful sister, seeking her retribution. I summoned the last of my power afforded to me by my office, and cast myself to that same world, chasing the pariah, the Fallen Angel, to put an end to her maniacal desire for power. I sought my sister out, but she had aligned herself with a powerful faction, one that I could not challenge alone, the Empire of Noxus."

Jarvan's mouth fell open as he looked at Kayle in disbelief. The judicator nodded slowly. "When you found her…" Jarvan said, frowning. "Why did you not come to Demacia for assistance?"

"Your people had just found an end to your conflict, which had raged for mere centuries." Kayle said, smiling weakly as she looked up at Jarvan. "For me, that is barely a day's time for a human's lifespan. I did not wish to perpetrate conflict for the sake of ending conflict on my own world. I sought out information, and from there, I found the Institute of War, the organization that had ended the conflict upon Valoran. There, I sought help from High Councilor Reginald Ashram. I traded him a thousand years of servitude for an end to all magicks sent to my world. With the threat of the fury of an entire race of immortals to back him, Ashram was able to coerce the Noxians into quelling my sister's actions. With his help, the connection to my world from this one was severed, closing the portal, saving my world from the encroaching doom, however, I was trapped here."

"Your purpose here was fulfilled though, was it not?" Jarvan said, frowning slightly.

"No." Kayle said, shaking her head. "My sister's magicks laid claim to thousands of my people's lives, and it is my duty to bring her to justice." The Judicator's voice, driven, hearty and purposeful as it was, fell silent, and Jarvan watched as the closest thing to anger he had ever seen burned bright in the Judicator's eyes. She closed them, taking a slow breath before turning and looking to the prince. "And now you know what purpose I serve here in Runeterra and my interests in the conflict." She looked to the floor, breathing slowly, calming her racing heart. "I desire justice for my people, and despite my many efforts, I must must fight against Noxus."

"I understand." Jarvan said quietly, offering no further questions to the Judicator. He knew the pain of loss all too well, but the betrayal of one as close and as dear as a sister must have been devastating. _I blamed myself for the loss of Exemplar Company for many years. I can't imagine how many years that Kayle has had to bear a burden so heavy._ The prince sighed softly, setting his jaw again. "Thank you, Lady Judicator. You've banished all doubt within me regarding your dedication."

The Judicator looked up and offered him a thankful smile. "Very well. Now that we've put such sad stories behind us, perhaps we should move onto the matter at hand." She looked to the prince and Jarvan nodded, forcibly placing his hands upon his knees. "Firstly, does anyone know the full extent of everything that is at play here?"

"Not in full." The prince said, frowning slightly. "My father knows pieces, but he's more concerned with Demacia's safety right now, and he cannot act when all I can offer currently is baseless accusations. It troubles me that I am unable to offer any proof to my believed theories, but should he act on unsubstantiated beliefs, he could plunge the entire world into the darkness of war, once again." Frustration filled the prince's voice as he growled, shaking his head, his fists clenching, white knuckles showing across the back of his hand.

"You father is a wise man. It is not you he does not believe in, but he must be skeptical and consider his people first. You must understand that." Kayle said reassuringly, peeling's Jarvan armored cuirass away. She froze, inhaling sharply. "And your friend, the dragon?"

"She has more than enough on her hands right now." Jarvan said, shaking his head. He paused, frowning, looking down at his hands, grimacing slightly as he clenched his hands into fists. Kayle noticed the subtle change in his manner in such an unexpected manner, but she did not bring it up, instead trying to stay focused on the conflict.

"I see…" Kayle paused for a moment, looking pennant before looking up to the prince. "Considering I have spent much time relieving my own personal burdens upon, please, fill me in on everything you know and have learned. I wish to know everything."

The prince took a slow, deep breath before exhaling again. "There is almost too much to speak of it in any sensible manner, but I will tell you what I know and what sense I have managed to make of it while trying to keep it from becoming too confusing." Jarvan froze, looking at the ethereal being, and for a brief moment he was unsure if he should, but the intensity of the Judicator's glare and the strength of her expression, reinforced by her previous assurances, he exhaled slowly. "Not long after our previous meeting, I was approached in Demacia by a mysterious figure, disguised as one of my bodyguards. Much of my own knowledge comes from this person." Jarvan said, looking down to the ground, preparing himself for all of the information he would now be revealing. "I must warn you that I do not know what is planned here in Kalamanda, but I do know what the end goal is in this plot. In Noxus, there is a group of dissenters who are unhappy with the rule of Grand General Boram Darkwill known simply as _the Black Rose_. They view Noxus's empire as waning and fading, and they desire to jumpstart their expansion and to return Noxus to its former glory by forcibly ousting the Grand General, usurping his rule and placing a member of their own in the Noxian seat of power."

"They desire a coup d'état." Kayle said softly, her eyes growing wider. "Who are the constituents of this _Black Rose_ , do you know?"

"Yes, but only some of the cabal." Jarvan said, nodding slowly. "Their leader is an enigmatic woman who was once named Evaine, but she now goes by the name Emilia Leblanc, or simply uses the letter 'L' when she wishes to maintain her anonymity. I am sorry to say I do not know much about her, only of her existence. The only other member I know who was confirmed as a member was General Marcus Du Couteau, a famed Noxian assassin, former head of the Noxian Secret Intelligence and father to Katarina Du Couteau. There is a third member, but it is only a suspicion, not something I know: Jericho Swain. His mysterious background and rapid but troubled rise to power all point to his role in this plot, and his recent promotion to the Noxian High Command can only mean that their plan has advanced to its final stages, despite their previous setbacks." Jarvan took a slow breath before exhaling again. "From what I can gather, they were close to putting their plan into action several months ago with their attempted manipulation of the dragon, Kampf. It is only my guess, but given enough time, they would have been able to control or influence the monster into attacking Noxus, with the end goal of either slaying the Grand General in his keep, or driving him to action based upon new information that was rapidly crossing the land."

"The tales of the Demacian Prince and his draconian companion roaming the wastes of Valoran." Kayle said slowly, looking to the prince. "I remember the rumors when they started to flit through the halls of the Institute."

"Yes." Jarvan said, nodding tersely, a cold expression of hatred distilled to icy wrath burning upon his mug at the thought of being used so.

Kayle exhaled slowly, sitting back and closing her eyes, nodding slowly. "I had heard the rumors even within the Institute of War. I feared the consequences and began shadowing you with what magic I could spare while in service to the Institute before I could seek you out and confront you for myself."

Jarvan grunted as if that had been a revelation he had always wondered about. "I always felt as though I was being watched, but I assumed it had just been Katarina and Talon." Kayle grinned sheepishly at him, but the Demacian rubbed his chin before shaking his head, setting his jaw, sighing thoughtfully as he turned back to the issue at hand. "By blaming Shyvana and myself for Kampf's actions, the Black Rose would be able to hunt us down, or at the very least chase us back to Demacia, and they would have had the fodder they needed to ignite the conflict they so desire." Jarvan grinned thinly. "But someone else found me first, and you were forced to intervene."

"Yes." Kayle said solemnly. "It might not have been ideal, but I think what occurred was beneficial to our efforts." Jarvan shot her a curious look, but the angelical being raised a hand to forestall his question. "It was unfortunate you and the lady dragon were sent through such a crucible at the hands of Katarina and Talon Du Couteau, but because I was able to put you into a stasis that made it appear as if you had met your mortal end, Swain believed you to truly be dead, and it allowed you the ability to get deeper and deeper into his scheming undetected until you were far to close and it was far too late."

"I could have simply laid low." Jarvan muttered, spitting the angel with a slightly cross expression. "You didn't need let me come so close to dying…"

"My power does have its limits." Kayle said, meeting his gaze with an even expression. "It was a choice between a stasis that caused you to appear dead, or death itself. Despite what you may have experienced, I feel that it was preferable to something far more permanent."

Jarvan opened his mouth to protest, but he shut it again quickly, exhaling slowly, nodding. "Yes." Kayle offered him a fleeting smile of sympathy before gesturing for him to continue. "It was not long before we managed to flee Noxus, and reunited with the rest of my forces. We moved northwest to seek out the dragon, Kampf, and sought to defeat him before the Black Rose was able to use him for their own machinations."

"And if stories are to be believed, you did." Kayle grinned.

"We did, but that was merely the very tip of the iceberg." Jarvan said shaking his head. "The following months in Demacia were not easy. An assassination attempt, my own staff trying to kill each other several times, and meanwhile I was trying not to worry about Shyvana the entire time, not seeing or hearing from her for days at a time."

"Separation is never easy." Kayle said softly, obviously trying to sound reassuring. Jarvan grunted, his brow furrowing slightly at the topic of the dragoness. Kayle noticed the dismay on his face, but said nothing, instead trying to remain on topic. "What of this assassination attempt?"

"It was not against me, but aimed at Shyvana." Jarvan said, his brow furrowing further. "I took a crossbow bolt made of a dark, terrifying material, some sort of malicious ice that did not melt." Jarvan's fists formed again, shaking violently before he forced himself to take a deep breath. "At this point, one of my subordinates disappeared. At first I wondered if he was responsible for the attack, but as I pieced more and more together about his disappearance and a finally got a few leads, it led me to the missing piece of the puzzle, and the source of most of my information."

"You found someone." Kayle said softly, frowning thoughtfully. "Your subordinate?" She tones the question, curiosity thick in her voice. The prince shook his head, the angel's brow creasing prettily in a curious gaze. "Not your subordinate. So who then?"

"General Marcus Du Couteau himself." Jarvan said softy, watching the shock roll across Kayle's face.

"But I thought…" She furrowed her brow, shaking her head in disbelief. "I thought Du Couteau was dead or missing? News has said he had been attacked in Noxus and hadn't been heard from since. "

"Not entirely untrue." Jarvan said, shaking his head, shrugging his shoulders. "He went into hiding after there was an assassination attempt against his life when his dedication to the Black Rose faltered. They'd likely been tracking him through their own sources within the Noxian Empire in addition to employing their own forces. It is unfortunate, but I think it was my fault that he was forced out of the darkness, but without him I would most likely be lost right now." Jarvan paused, looking to Kayle, letting his expression darken. "Du Couteau was originally charged with the assassination of Darkwill himself, but when he realized that failure was unavoidable and the threat faced to his daughters if he did not prevail in his endeavors, he knew that they would be held accountable for his betrayal. When he realized this, he knew he had to disappear, without telling anyone, including his own daughters. From there, using his new found freedom, the General began his attempts to seek refuge in Demacia after escaping Noxian clutches, and ever since, both factions have been searching for him."

"So that's why Katarina sought you out." Kayle grimaced, tapping her chin. "Then you antagonized her into attacking you, and that led to all of the problems that followed. So in a way, it was a mixed blessing I suppose. …but how did you find him?"

Jarvan barked a sarcastic laugh. "In the end, I did not find him, he found me." There was a thin but almost unpleasant grin on the prince's face, as if the thought almost made him sick. "However, there were a few dozen of his friends following him that my men and I got to tangle with, and it's thanks to Du Couteau that I'm alive. I owe him my life several times over now, and before you ask, while I do not know if I can or cannot trust him, his information thus far has aligned with my own, so I have been using it though I have been proceeding with extreme caution in doing so."

"I see." Kayle said softly, frowning. "Is there anything more he said to you?"

Jarvan frowned softly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Well… there were a few things he said that only seems to drive my theories approaching Swain further."

"What, exactly?" Kayle said, looking intently at the prince.

"Shyvana is many things." Jarvan said softly, his hands muddling together as he sighed. "She is powerful, beautiful, brilliant, and she is her own woman. She shares the immense power of her father as well as the resilience, cunning and ingenuity of the human race. It is this union of dragon and humanity, distilled into a single being that reminds the Black Rose of their failure. Swain, when he captured me, tried to have me put to death at Shyvana's hands, but we escaped with quite the show." A brief smirk flashed over his face. "Swain was obviously sore about that one. They tried to use Kampf to kill their target, and then they tried to frame Demacia using Shyvana. It was with her help and the sacrifice of one of my oldest friends that we foiled that plot. Shyvana now is more of a symbol to the Black Rose. She stands as a personification of their failure and their frustrations towards their goal. Du Couteau warned me of Swain's vengeance against her being swift and painful."

"That only makes her that much more of a target." Kayle murmured, watching the discomfort flowing through the prince's shoulders as he spoke about the dragoness. "You seem bothered, prince." Kayle said softly. Jarvan could easily hear a concerned frown in her voice. "What irks you so that even the very mention of the dragoness seems to irritate you? It was my impression that things were well between you two."

"They are." Jarvan said tersely, though there was a moment of hesitation that came right after his worse. "I think they are. I do not know right now. This afternoon… there has been a rift that was not there before, and I fear there are things she is not telling me. I worry something might be wrong."

"Have you considered that perhaps it is something that she thinks does not concern you?" Kayle asked gently, watching the grimace forming on the prince's face. "You must trust in your partner, even when things are difficult."

"Yes." Jarvan said softly, letting his head sink to his hands. "I know. I just… I have so much to think about right now, and now I feel as though I must worry about Shyvana again." There was a pain in his voice as if he thought something had suddenly gone horribly wrong. "I'm being torn from both sides. I want to spend time with her, and I very much desire and need someone I can trust by my side, but…"

"But you also want to keep her safe, don't you?" Kayle said softly. "You said it yourself. She may well become a target." The silence was very still and almost painful as it drifted through the tent.

Jarvan exhaled slowly, nodding his head. "Yes. I fear that her very presence by my side might put her in danger, but I do not want to distance her or pull her too close to try and protect her for fear of pushing her away." The prince shook his head, his shoulders shaking as he exhaled heavily.

"Perhaps the distance would be best." Kayle said gently. There was a moment as she sunk back, expecting a biting response, but none came, only a soft, sad sigh. The judicator frowned, looking down at the prince, waiting a moment before continuing. "If you wish to keep those around you safe, you should be wary of the tactics of those who would look to harm you. Most will not be as forgiving or as just as you, so you must be careful to protect those around you, and if you care about those people, sometimes, distance is the safest way to protect someone." Kayle looked down at the prince below her, her azure eyes looking over the scarred, muscled body as she pulled the cuirass free, setting it aside. There was a vicious looking series of scars that ran along his neck and over his shoulder, a number of smaller, older nicks and deep cuts, but the most gruesome was a massive circular burn in the very center of his back. The feathery marks around the edge and the reddish color of the center marked the burn as recent. The skin was tightened around edge, the scarring stretched tight across his back. Jarvan hunched forward, resting his elbows upon his knees, his shoulders rising and falling slowly as he inhaled and exhaled.

"This burn…" Kayle said softly, running her fingers slowly over the prince's back. "Did she give it to you?"

"No, that was given to me by the dragon, Kampf." Jarvan said, his voice tight. "With Shyvana's help, we slew the beast, but not without great cost." Jarvan held his hands before him, both of them trembling as he clutched a fist in the other hand. "It seems like it was just yesterday that I was given those scars…" His voice faded fondly off.

Kayle nodded, seeing the aching attachment in the prince's expression. _Worry._ She turned to his back, laying her hand upon him. "This should be quick and completely harmless, but for your safety, please, remain still." The prince grunted something inaudible, but remained still, his gaze fading off somewhere across the tent. The angelic being exhaled slowly, closing her eyes, her body beginning to glow with power. Her hand grew warm, and while Jarvan had previously felt sore from the fall and burned from the burning of the Judicator's reckoning, this sensation felt warm and soft, like heat was starting to pour through his body, warming and strengthening him. He turned to look back at the judicator over his shoulder. Kayle's body glowed with a soft, warm light, her golden locks billowing slightly as she whispered a silent incantation. There was an ethereal beauty about her, and Jarvan forced himself to look away, lest he was caught staring.

After a few moments, the warmth started to fade and Kayle exhaled softly. Jarvan turned and looked back at the Judicator again, and what he saw caused him to take pause. She had looked radiant and inhuman when casting her spell, but now, she looked almost dull. Her hair had faded from a shimmering gold to a pale yellow, her eyes had faded from an electric azure to a dim pale blue, and her wings seemed to hang lifelessly behind her. Her shoulders were slumped as she sat on the cot, breathing heavily as she finally looked up at the prince. "All finished."

"Kayle…" Jarvan murmured. "Are you…"

"Do not worry, I am well enough. Merely tired." The Judicator said softly, exhaling, offering the prince a tired smile. "It tires me to use my magic away from natural sources of power, so I must conserve what little I have stored within me. Between concealing my voice, all the small charms, and then the reckoning and the divine blessing I have bestowed you with… I will need a little time to recuperate."

"Very well." Jarvan murmured softly, raising his arms slightly as Kayle began again, starting to put plating back in place upon the prince's body. She worked for a moment in silence, returning the sleeve that formed the undersuit of Jarvan's armor, slowly pulling more and more plating till all that remained was the cuirass that cover his torso. She stopped, looking to the pennant prince, seeing the concentration marring his face as he stared at his lance, lain before him. "You spoke of a dark plot that loomed over Kalamanda. Have you uncovered something new since we last met?"

Kayle sighed softly, pausing, resting her hand against Jarvan's pauldron. Even through the armor, the prince could feel her warmth radiating towards him. "There have been many different problems arising, and I hate to admit, but even knowing now what you have told me, I cannot tell what is related and what is simply unfortunate coincidence." There were a few moments of silence before Kayle exhaled softly, leaning forward against Jarvan's shoulder, letting her forehead rest against the prince's warm skin.

"Lady Judicator?" Jarvan said in surprise, turning slightly, looking back at her. Kayle's entire being seemed to have dimmed. Her azure eyes had faded to a dull, pale blue, her golden hair that hand gleamed like polished coin had faded to a dull yellow, and her wings drooped tiredly behind her. "You truly look unwell."

"I am weary from all this." Kayle said softly, leaning against Jarvan. "In my world, evil is not so subtle as it appears in the hearts of man. It manifests and festers like a disease of darkness. Here, you can hide it with ease." There was a pause in the Judicator's voice before she exhaled, raising her head and setting about slowly examining the prince's many wounds. "With the disappearance of the High Counselor of the Institute of War, Reginald Ashram, several years past, my connection to the Institute has weakened significantly, and I fear that without Ashram, the Institute is slowly deteriorating." There was frustration in Kayle's voice as she continued. "Now that Ashram has been replaced, the institute has descended to chaos in his absence. A new High Councilor was chosen by the remaining council of equity members, but I believe at this point, I fear the worst. Without Ashram pushing the equity of nations, I do not believe that peace will last. The new High Councilor, Heywan Relivash, is not completely incompetent, but he does not seem interested in actually equity so much as his own power. His grabs for position and radical new ideas have left the Institute in complete chaos. I do not know what lies in the future, I do not think the Institute's time will last long in this realm."

"Someone wishes to destroy the Institute of War?" Jarvan asked softly.

"No, someone wishes to use it, and I fear that it will be destroyed through this deception. When its constituents are turned against it, all hope for peace will truly be lost." Kayle said, her voice and her eyes sharpening as she looked at the prince. "It is only an early suspicion, but I believe that Relivash is involved in this somehow. All of my own investigations seem to only lead to more questions, and with Ashram missing, I face a serious threat." Kayle said softly.

Jarvan paused, frowning, looking back to Kayle. "You said you swore a thousand years of servitude to the Institute. But with Ashram missing…"

Kayle anticipated the rest of his question again, nodding. "Yes. My agreement with the Institute may soon be null and void if Ashram remains missing. The new High Councilor, Heywan Relivash, is not so accepting of my people's plight, and has stated in so many words that he will terminate my agreement with the previous High Councilor if I do not bend to his methods." There was disgust and revulsion in the woman's voice as she took a slow deep breath, grimacing as she looked back to the prince. "And it is with that revelation that I must ask an immense favor of you, prince."

Jarvan frowned, sitting up slightly, turning to face the Judicator sitting next to him. He looked into the Judicator's eyes, looking deep and seeing the almost deathly serious gaze that came back at him. "Of course."

"I fear for the future of the Institute of War." Kayle said softly, looking down at the cot. "I do not know if it is simply changing, or if it is on the brink of destruction, but I dread the thought that soon I will find myself without home or position." Kayle clasped her hands together, both shaking softly before her. "If something happens to the Institute of War, I beseech thee, will Demacia accept my services? I do not wish further harm to come to my world, and no other nation has the power or position to negotiate with Noxus, where my sister resides. If-…"

Kayle's voice stopped as the prince set his hand atop the Kayle's clasped fingers, halting the tremors in her hands. "Demacia will welcome your strength and wisdom with gratitude and thanks. I cannot guarantee that your requests will not be met with conditions, but a being of your power and strength will be welcome in Demacia."

Kayle exhaled slowly, taking a deep breath, her shivering hands stopping before her. She looked up at the prince, the azure energy having almost fully returned to her eyes as she beamed back at him. "Thank you." She said softly, shaking her head slowly. "Truly, prince, thank you. My people are in you and Demacia's debt."

Jarvan nodded, smiling coldly and thinly. "Do not celebrate just yet." Jarvan chuckled gravely. "I have merely offered you residence in Demacia and our assistance, I cannot yet guarantee the safety of your people, especially if the institute were to fall."

Kayle nodded, knowingly, some of the dread and tiredness gone from her body replaced with a serious but intense energy. "Whatever the Black Rose intends to do, they wish for open war, and if the carnage is started with such malicious intent, where the effects will be so far reaching, I fear that even the Institute may not survive. If their plans succeed… this might mark the beginning of the fall of the Institute of War."

"If it came to that, do you think them desperate enough to directly attack the League if necessary to move their plans forward?" Jarvan asked, frowning, his gaze narrowing thoughtfully for a second. "Do you not think that they would prefer to try and bend the influence of the Institute to allow their conflict instead?"

"I think that they intend to discredit the Institute by warping it's appearance." Kayle murmured, her fingers strumming along the armor plates in a slow rhythm as she worked. She froze, her eyes suddenly widening in shock, the revelation of something striking her suddenly. "They need not attack, merely warp the institute's image so badly its constituents withdraw. If they managed that they could attack with impunity, no fear of reprisal."

Jarvan's eyes widened slightly. "My accusations were bold yes, but do you know the implications that could bring?" His hands fell to his lap as he blinked, shaking his head in disbelief. "It could be war across the entire continent if the Institute was found to be favoring a nation or purposefully assisting in fueling the fires of war. The backlash would be immense."

"Yes." Kayle agreed, shaking her head. "But until I am able to prove it, my theory shall not leave this tent, do you understand?" Jarvan nodded immediately, the gravity of the idea still rolling over him, dawning like the sun breaking across the horizon on a clear morning. Kayle sighed softly, the frustrations flowing in the tired tone. "Heywan Relivash has already stated that my position as Judicator is that one on a short leash. He has only encouraged the buildup of forces here, pushing not for league intervention but presence within the region, as if he were a faction vying for the rights as well. Those are not the actions of a man who desires peace, and it fits only too well with the Noxian agenda."

"Agreed." Jarvan said gravely, thinking to the kindly old man who had come to call only hours previously. _Could even one as innocent seeming as him be involved in the conflict? Just how far does the Black Roses' tendrils reach…?_ Jarvan pounded his fist against his thigh, grimacing as he ran a hand over his mug, running it up and over his head, scooping his mane of black hair over his head with a disgusted sigh. "I have yet to receive any sort of break, or even the slightest bit of good news regarding this entire fiasco… I'm supposed to be trying to prevent a war!" Jarvan let the vehemence slowly fade in his throat as he sighed, casting Kayle a weary glance. "Sorry. If it isn't obvious, I'm under more than a little stress right now, and I have no idea what I can even do to try and prevent it. Everyone things I have all the answers… but everything I have, everything I know is almost useless to help me save anyone at all!"

The ethereal being paused for a moment, letting the prince's frustrations fizzle out for several moments, the anger starting to fade to a weak grumble. Jarvan finally sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face, his half-armored torso clattering with the flapping of the unsecured plates. "Is there anything else that you know?" Kayle asked softly, a frown on her face as she tried to drag the prince back to the tent.

Jarvan looked at her, surprised for a moment before realizing that she was talking to him. He paused, his mouth open, about to talk, but he shut it again, nodding slowly, acknowledging the Judicator's question, letting it draw him away from his brooding. "Well, there is one other thing…"

"If there is anything you know that could be tied to them or this place, do not hesitate in telling me." Kayle toned seriously, her azure eyes training on the prince uncomfortably, as if she were peering into his very soul. "Anything at all, do not hold back even your wildest accusations. We still know nothing of what the Black Rose plans here other that they aim to try and fan the fires of conflict…"

"There is one last thing." Jarvan said softly. "Part of this will likely be something you need to see to believe. I fought against the monster, and sometimes I still think that there is no way that it could have been real and not some figment of a nightmare." The prince exhaled slowly, gathering his courage and his wits about him. "There is a company of Demacian infantry missing."

Kayle's eyebrow went up in an inquisitive glare. "Missing? How does an entire company of Demacian infantry just go… missing…" Jarvan's sudden melancholy caused her to pause, working her jaw contemplatively before realizing her words. "I am sorry, I didn't mean to imply…"

Jarvan raised a hand, silencing her, trying to wipe the tired look from his face. "It doesn't matter, now. There are more pressing issues at hand." Jarvan grunted, sighing softly, earning a curious look from the judicator. "When we found the company… the remnants of the company, we were able to connect the unit to their assignment. They were escorting a column of Kalamandan Refugees headed to Demacia."

"What happened to the refugees?" Kayle murmured softly, her voice reverent and scared, her azure eyes wide with outrage, anger sparkling violently like electricity coursing back and forth between the two loci of power.

Jarvan simply shook his head, grimacing, his hands shivering before him in anger.

"All of them?" Kayle murmured quietly, her eyes going from wide and shocked to narrowed and cold. "How many?"

"Fifteen hundred." Jarvan murmur softly. "We don't have a set number, the records were unclear, lost in the confusion, as if someone merely hoped that they would be overlooked, but not a single soul was spared. And we know almost nothing about what happened."

"How…" Kayle whispered. "How goes this happen, one thousand and five hundred people gone, hundreds more of Demacia's elite with them. And nothing? Nothing at all?"

"We found a creature." Jarvan murmured. "Eight legs, many eyes… you could call it a spider, were it not four or five times the size of a man."

"A spider, many times the size of a man?" Kayle murmured, her eyes narrowing. Jarvan turned, looking to Kayle, seeing the brooding but thoughtful look upon the angel's brow. She tapped her chin with a thoughtful expression for many moments, the prince leaning forward slightly, watching as Kayle opened her mouth as if to speak, then shutting it again.

"You have the look of a woman with something weighing heavily upon their mind." Jarvan said, his manner turning as sharp and a deadly as the razor blade of a knife. "You agreed to honesty, Kayle. It is your turn to divulge any information you have with me."

"I know." Kayle said, sighing softly, the thoughtful look slowly being replaced with an annoyed expression. "First you must know something about the Institute of War." Jarvan said nothing, but the gravity of his glare told the angel that he was willing to listen to anything so long as she gave him the information in the end. "At any one time, there are hundreds of mages, scouts and observers scouring the face of Runeterra for those who might be valuable to the Institute to be recruited and those who are dangerous to the Institute who must be watched. As one of the Judicators, I am privy to most of these assignments and the profiles and investigations into the many we evaluate come across my desk. There is one such character I know of… a spider charmer from the Shadow Isles."

"This was no average spider I fought." Jarvan growled, the anticipation draining from his expression, replaced with annoyance.

"The spiders she tames oft seen are the size of large dogs." Kayle murmured, her gaze sill even. "Rumor has it that she has monstrosities the size of horses and larger at her beck and call. Some even say she can turn into one of the beasts when provoked."

Jarvan opened his mouth to protest, but he let it fall shut, thinking of the creature he shared a bed with. _Shyvana is half dragon, half human. It is only logical that there could be other creatures who share that same trait…_ Kayle interrupted the prince's brooding, handing him back his tunic. The prince glanced at it, a concerned look on his face for several moments before he sighed, lifting the tunic over his head and sliding it down into place. Jarvan tugged at it for a few moments, unbuckling his belt and starting to tuck the tunic into place.

"Here, lift your arms." Kayle said, pushing herself up and stepping towards where she had lain the prince's cuirass beside her. She lifted it up, wincing slightly at the exertion. Jarvan saw the look in her eyes, standing to help.

"Here, let me…" Jarvan said, starting to take the cuirass away from her, but the withering glare from the angelic being silenced him. "Tell me this." Jarvan growled, his voice tired, rumbling under his breath. Kayle paused, looking at him with a curious gaze as if waiting for his question. "Where is this creature? Does it still reside within the Shadow Isles?"

"No." Kayle said tersely, a serious and thoughtful expression upon her face as she looked up at the prince's cuirass, tapping the armor with an impatient manner. "We started tracking her when she was discovered in the docks of Bilgewater, preying upon sea weary brigands." Kayle lifted the cuirass away from him, stepping up onto the edge of the cot and offered him a sardonic grin. The prince sighed, lifting his arms, letting the winged being raise it over his head and drop it into place. She set about securing it in place. "It got so bad, Bilgewater requested the aid of League assistance to clear out the infestation. There were hundreds of them, most the size of common house cats, but some of them were the size of small schooners. A band of Bilgewater Pirates under command of Gangplank, son of Vincent the Shadow, was assembled finally to banish the foe, but by the time the Institute was able to send assistance, all that remained were shrunken husks and the haunted tales of half-dead sailors who said a beautiful witch who could turn into a spider enthralled them, letting her pawns drain their life essence. The men were found dehydrated, drained near completely of blood." Kayle tugged the belts around his side taunt, reaching up, pulling the band around the prince's neck to hold the armored collar in place. She laced her arm around the prince's neck, pulling it around, lacing the strapping through the loops that held it down.

"She was after their blood?" Jarvan muttered, growling, disgust thick in his voice, thinking back to the scene he had seen previously, blood spread and spilled across a snowy field. The rustle of the tent drew his attention back to the information Kayle had presented him with. He blushed slightly, looking down into the face of the beautiful blonde woman, blushing slightly.

"Yes." Kayle said, frowning slightly as she leaned against the prince, struggling to feed the leather band through a loop. "But that's all I know, unfortunately. She disappeared from Bilgewater and I haven't heard of her since. It is possible that she could be working with the Black Rose, but it could be merely coincidence that she ended up here in Kalamanda. Dark creatures are often drawn to strife because if supplies them with whatever feeds them, be it blood, anger, pain or any other sources of dark power."

There was silence as she continued to struggle, leaving the prince to continue wondering, thinking of what possible reason could someone have to kill thousands of people for their blood. _I have to wonder if that is really what happened too, cause for now, all I have is hearsay and rumor to base my assumptions off of, and even then, who could possibly need such vast quantities of blood?_ _What possible use could blood be for the Black Rose?_ Jarvan mulled this over in silence for several moments before opening his mouth. He worked it slowly, frowning, shutting it again, his mind turning back to the creature that had terrorized Bilgewater, anger building at the thought of something coming to so mindlessly kill a company of Demacian troops. His frustration and anger was almost palatable. "So she's a damned, vicious half-breed, only obsessed with death, destruction and murder. That's fucking perfect."

There was a moment of silence as a cold shiver of air told the prince that the protective barriers around them had been breached.

Jarvan turned.

Shyvana stood in the doorway, looking as if she had just been run through with a sword.

* * *

"What do you mean you have something to show me?" Shyvana asked, looking at the young officer who stood across from her, his arms crossed over his chest, a thoughtful but serious expression across his face. "No offense, Tunis, but what could you have to show me?" The man had dark skin, his eyes intense, cool, and dark, his black hair shorn short and close to his skull. He was the complete opposite of the prince, his manner warm and open, his friendly and inviting smile coming easily to his lips. He wasn't much taller than Shyvana, but he was lean and muscular, matching the intensity of his dark eyes.

"Just something I found." Tunis said, leaning casually against one of the tent poles as he crossed his arms across his chest. "Something I thought you would find interesting."

Shyvana gave the Lieutenant a withering gaze, getting a chuckle and a warm smile from the Lieutenant as he looked into her eyes. There was something dark and entrancing about his eyes that brought color forward in the dragoness's cheeks. She looked down, wincing as the medic finished tying a bandage, giving the wrapping on her arm a gentle tug. A knife of pain spread through a bruise forming on her shoulder as she glared at the medical officer. "Ow. No need to be rough, doctor." Shyvana growled, casting the man an annoyed expression.

The doctor waved her off as he tucked the medical materials away, sliding them into his bag and pushing himself to his feet, sighing, shaking his head as he looked down at the dragoness. "More quantity than quality of damage, mostly just scratches, a few cuts, some bruising. I've cleaned and bandaged them all. If you're worried about infection, make sure you keep them clean, change the bandages once a day if you want." The doctor snorted, glancing down at her, checking a few documents on a leaf of paper, tapping the clipboard once before tucking it under his arm, grinning to himself. "Maybe your prince will change them for you if you ask nicely." He shook his head as he turned to leave, Shyvana getting to her feet, grabbing his wrist, glaring at him.

"If you have something to say about me, you say it to my face." Shyvana growled, her eyes swirling with glowing orange temperament, though as the doctor looked on, his posture reeling slightly, shriveling from the pressure Shyvana was applying to his wrist.

"My lady," The man's voice shivered as Shyvana's grip tightened for a moment and the man withered, his knees started to buckle. "My lady!" The doctor pleaded, his voice wavering. "Please! I meant no harm by the comment!"

"Let him go, Shy." Tunis said softly, gently pulling her wrist off the doctor. The man collapsed to his knees, gripping his wrist, all of his materials falling to the ground next to him. There was a red mark around his wrist, pinpricks of blood showing where Shyvana's talons had dug into his skin.

"Damnit!" The doctor hissed, looking at the dragoness in anger. "You-…"

"Easy now." Tunis said softly, watching the fire in the dragoness's eyes die slightly as she stepped back, looking from his wrist to her hand, trepidation written on her face. "Go on, doc, get out of here." The lieutenant said evenly. "Before you really make her mad." The smile on his face seemed to frighten the doctor as the lieutenant picked him up, setting his firmly on his feet and directing him towards the door. The doctor grumbled as he swept quickly out of the tent, leaving the flaps pushed back behind him. Tunis turned and looked at the dragoness, cocking his head slightly to the side, offering her an encouraging grin.

"What?" Shyvana asked impatiently, blushing slightly as she looked at the officer.

"You seem a bit on edge." Tunis said softly, the smile fading slightly though it didn't vanish completely. "If you want to talk about it…" The lieutenant looked hopeful for a moment, but the look on Shyvana's face quashed that as he saw the sadness filling her gaze for a moment. She looked up, catching Tunis staring at her, but this time the officer didn't look away. Shyvana sighed, standing up, gesturing for Tunis to follow as she stepped out of the tent, shielding her eyes from the rays of sunlight cutting through the cloud cover above.

"Alright." Tunis muttered under his breath. "I get you don't want to talk about it."

"I can hear you." Shyvana murmured, glancing back and casting him an annoyed expression. However, the lieutenant only met her with that charming smile. She sighed. "It's not something I can much talk about; it is a private affair."

"Very well, my lady." Tunis said, raising his hands in a placating manner.

Shyvana turned, crossing her arms over her chest, fitting the lieutenant with an even glare. "You had something to tell me, yes? So how about you tell me?"

"Well it was just something I found just outside the city I thought would be interesting to you." Tunis said, shrugging. The expectant gaze from Shyvana told him that she was waiting for his explanation. Tunis took a breath and met her gaze openly. "What do you remember of your mother?"

Shyvana's jaw fell open for a moment as she considered the question, finally clicking it shut. "That is a very personal question." Shyvana muttered, slightly off kilter by the question. "Something only friends should discuss…"

"You said it yourself." Tunis said, offering her that big, charming smile. Shyvana blushed, remembering her own words. _Friends._ Shyvana seemed to mull it over for a few moments before sighing softly, looking back to him. There was slightly less vehemence in her expression than before, as if one of the walls had been broken down.

"Not much." Shyvana finally said after several long moments, her face falling again. However, this was not the sadness of recent confliction, rather, a long forgotten pain, dulled by time. "I remember something warm, soft and gentle. She was loving and caring, but she died when I was very little, so I don' remember much besides that." Shyvana paused, tugging her long braid over her shoulder, the armored sheath clanking against her shoulder pauldron. Shyvana's hand bumped against it, a frown crossing her face as she let her fingers slowly drag down it, finally finding and tugging affectionately at the crimson locks that poked from the end. "That and red."

"She had red hair like you?" Tunis said, grinning at her, eyeing the dragoness's crimson locks as she glanced at the lieutenant nodding.

"Yes." Shyvana said, blushing, smiling at the fond but faint memories of her mother. "My father always said I was the spitting image of her, save for a few draconian improvements." She offered the lieutenant a thin grin, watching as he roared a hearty laugh, smiling warmly at the dragoness as he looked her up and down.

"Your mother must have been quite beautiful to have such a daughter." Tunis said, watching as color flooded the dragoness's cheeks.

"Thank you." Shyvana said softly, ducking her head, blushing deeply.

"Of cour-…" Tunis was cut off by the clatter of steel on steel the shout of surprised workers and the murmurs of confusion as angry shouts cut through the air. "What's going on?" Tunis growled, his hands straying to his weapons. One of the tents distant along the row of facilities shook violently as if a tornado had erupted inside of it, and for a second after the commotion, the flaps settled, leaving those who had come to call looking for the source of the commotion confused and surprised. Suddenly, the flaps rippled and then Captain Crownguard came flying out, his sword braced across his chest as he landing on his back, skidding several feet along the ground before coming to a rest. "Captain!" Tunis shouted, drawing his weapon, taking off at a run.

Garen grunted as he pushed himself up, looking at the tent. Katarina Du Couteau stood in the doorway, her shoulders rising and falling rapidly as she held both of her short swords drawn, held ready at her sides.

"What in the world were you thinking, putting your hands there!?" Katarina hissed, her voice both white hot and seething with fury.

"It was an accident!" Garen tried to explain, waving Tunis down as he got to his feet, grumbling, sheathing his sword upon his back. Katarina did not look satisfied with his answer, her cheeks the same shade of red as her hair, her emerald eyes narrowed to mere slits as she glared at the knight, the fury fading only slightly.

"An accident is letting a hand brush against it." Katarina said, eyeing the guardsmen that were now moving towards them, weapons drawn, fanning out to surround the Noxian assassin. She sighed softly, breathing a long cool breath of air, shaking her head before sheathing her own blades. "Squeezing it so is a completely different story." Color flooded her cheeks as she shifted from foot to foot, wrapping her arms over her stomach, letting her gaze fall to the ground for a brief moment before looking back up to the knight. "Call your dogs before we make more of a scene."

Garen cast her a withering glare before shaking his head and sighing as he turned to the massing soldiers. "Sheath your weapons, men. It was only a misunderstanding."

A Demacian lieutenant looked on incredulously, his mouth hanging open at the captain's orders. "Sir?" He questioned, bristling slightly as the knight merely sighed. "What about-…"

Garen interrupted him, holding up a hand. "Have your men return to their posts, Lieutenant. I apologize for the disturbance." The men grumbled as they dispersed, the officer corralling them back to their posts. He glanced up at Katarina, shaking his head as he pushed himself to his feet, brushing the dust from his clothes. "You don't need to react so violently." Garen muttered, rubbing his hand over his breastbone, grimacing slightly in pain. "That hurt you know."

"Sorry." Kat mumbled under her breath, blushing again.

Garen scratched his head, watching as soldiers dispersed back through the camp. "How about we-…"

"Hey, Shy." Shyvana's attention was drawn away from the captain and the Noxian assassin, seeing Forsythe offering her a lazy salute and a lopsided grin, two of the prince's new men waiting at attention behind him. Shyvana blinked a few times, surprised to see them here. Shyvana realized they were waiting for them to return her salute. Shyvana snapped off a quick salute, seeing the two finally drop from attention. The two were an odd pair, one a giant of a man with a serene expression on his face and heavy armor, and the other shorter with jet colored hair, thick glasses and a inquisitive smile. They turned to talk amongst themselves as they waited, the shorter of the two tightening the strap for the weapon he carried over his shoulder, the other looking around, turning slowly in place as he took in his new surroundings.

"Hi, Forsythe." Shyvana said, smiling weakly at the corporal. "What brings you here?"

The tow-headed noncom's smile drained, his brow furrowing slightly, his one eye glancing over the dragoness's shoulder towards the lieutenant behind her. "Orders from the very top." There was a moment of silence as Forsythe turned, looking about, turning farther left to compensate for the eye patch covering the empty socket. "Where's Jarvan? I've got orders for both of you and Lieutenant Tunis as well."

Shyvana sensed something foreboding in the corporals almost somber mood. "He's receiving medical treatment right now." Shyvana paused, glancing around the corporal, pointing towards a tent yonder. "In that tent."

Forsythe turned, his jaw working, surprise on his face. "Medical treatment?" Forsythe repeated, shaking his head. "You two were gone for a matter of hours. How do you already need medical treatment?" Forsythe turned, pointing to a tent, frowning, confused suddenly, pointing as several other tents in turn.

"Don't ask." Shyvana muttered, a little color flooding her cheeks as she shook her head. "Here, I'll show you which one. What are our new orders?"

"Well…" Forsythe's voice seemed hesitant as he fell into step next to the dragoness, a frown creasing his brow. "You and Lieutenant Tunis are to report to the king for a new assignment. I'm here with Balto and Jericho to take over the Prince's guard."

"What?" Shyvana muttered, surprised, blinking, looking at the corporal in surprise. "Explain the meaning of this right now!"

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger." Forsythe muttered, raising his hands defensively, taking a step back. "I can't tell you any more than that, not because I don't want to, but because I don't know anything else."

"Wha…" Shyvana growled, shaking her head. She growled, shaking her head, turning towards the tent the prince was in, moving towards it quickly, thinking to the king and grimacing at the thought of his previous words. _Was a warning not enough? You're going to try and separate us by force?_ Shyvana grunted, jets of steam expelling from her nostrils. "Jarvan will want to protest this..."

Forsythe followed after her at a jog. "Shyvana, wait-…" He tried to protest, but the dragoness wouldn't listen. _I was heeding the kings request, but this is too far._ Shyvana swept the tent flaps open, pushing inside.

"…she's a damned, vicious half-breed, only obsessed with death, destruction and murder. That's fucking perfect."

The blonde, winged woman had her arms around the prince's neck, hanging from his chest, pressed against him. Shyvana eyes danced up and down the prince's form, seeing some of his armor missing, removed and now being replaced, his belt undone.

Perfect silence cut through the air.

…

"Jar-… van…" There was a deathly silence as Jarvan turned, finding Shyvana looking at him with a blank expression. Jarvan blanked, glancing down at Kayle before immediately stepping back. "Wha-…" There was a moment of shock on the dragoness's face but suddenly her eyes flooded with cold, vicious fury. Pure orange and golden anger swirled in her eyes as she looked up and down the prince's body, glancing to the judicator and then back to the prince. She looked him straight in his eyes, the anger shooting through him like a vicious sword.

"Is this what you wanted to do when you tried to hand me off?" She hissed viciously. "Couldn't be bothered with the vicious half-breed, could you?"

Jarvan blanked, surprise on his face as if he had just been caught red handed. "Wha-… Shy, what are you-…"

"I guess the joys of our time together have run their course." Shyvana fought back tears as she glared at the prince for several long moments, turning and stomping away. "Come, Tunis, the king is expecting us."

The lieutenant looked surprised, looking from Shyvana as she stormed past to where the prince stood in the tent, confusion on his face. Tunis took the scene in and knew exactly what had happened instantly. He narrowed his eyes instantly, looking at the prince with resentment. "One wasn't good enough was it? Think you get anything you want just because you're a prince? You disgust me."

"Wha-…" Jarvan muttered, shaking his head, looking at Tunis incredulously. "You insubordinate little-…!" The prince surged forward, but Forsythe had already stepped up, imposing himself in front of the prince, holding him back.

"Jarvan!" Forsythe shouted, struggling to hold his friend back. "Argyle! Balto! Help me, damnit!" The two jumped forward, restraining the prince as he struggled to get past them.

"Let me go!" Jarvan snarled, seeing the contemptuous smile of the lieutenant.

"That's right, call your dogs." Tunis growled threateningly. "Crawl back to your mistress, you false prince. To think you would betray someone so devoted to you…"

"It's not like that, you bastard!" Jarvan snarled.

"Step off, LT." Forsythe growled menacingly. "He's still the prince, and you're way out of line." Forsythe saw his mouth open, but the corporal stepped towards him, glaring down his nose at the lieutenant, raising himself up his full height, the appearance of an innocent young man was suddenly gone, replaced with a looming, terrifying brute of a soldier. "Stow it, or I might show you real insubordination when I beat you myself."

The Lieutenant snorted, shaking his head as he turned on his heel, retreating in the direction Shyvana had taken.

Forsythe waved the others down, letting the prince go as he tugged violently out of their grasp, shaking himself free and casting dark glances at them all. "What they fuck is going on, cap?" Forsythe asked, frowning at Jarvan.

"You tell me." Jarvan snarled, looking at Forsythe. "Where did Shyvana go?"

"The king requested her and Tunis." Forsythe said, defensively. "Balto, Argyle and I are your new guard for now. Not my decision, I might add."

"Son of a-…" Jarvan snarled, but he stopped when he felt the warm presence of the Judicator stepping from the tent behind them.

"Wait…" Forsythe said, his eyes going wide, seeing the wings folded behind her back. "Wait, you and _Kayle_?"

"What?" Jarvan snapped, looking at him incredulously. "No! NO!" Jarvan looked after Shyvana and Tunis, withering slightly, his shoulders falling slightly as realization washed over him. "…Is that what it looked like?"

"Pretty damning if you ask me, captain." Forsythe muttered, frowning uncomfortably.

"It was nothing like that." Jarvan groaning, shaking his head, a look of horror and pain filling his gaze, dread settling in his stomach like a lump of solid ice. "Not in the slightest." Forsythe couldn't say anything, only looking at the prince with a frown, as if he disapproved that the prince had let himself get caught in that position.

"Jarvan." The Judicator's voice was serene as she placed a hand on his arm. "I ask you to listen to what I have to say." Kayle murmured softly, sighing. "I have something to tell you that you will not like."

"Then maybe you should not say it." Jarvan snapped, shooting her an annoyed look. Kayle's expression was soft and serious, and yet it was apologetic. Jarvan let his face fall as he inhaled deeply, sighing heavily. All the anger that had built up previously seemed to drain from the prince, leaving him looking the shell of his former self, as if something had been struck from him with a hammer. "Apologies." Jarvan shook his head, looking down at the judicator.

"It is hard to hear, I will not deny it, but for your safety, and the safety of those you love…" Kayle took a deep breath. "Perhaps it would be best to put some distance between you and the dragoness." Kayle braced herself for an attack, but when only silence came, there was surprise and worry in her expression. She grimaced, watching as the prince looked contemplatively at the floor, his face a mask of worry and frustration. Kayle opened her mouth to speak, but paused, working her jaw slowly, running her hand slowly along it. The prince merely nodded tiredly, stepping back into the tent and drawing the tent flaps behind him.

Kayle glanced at the tall Demacian Corporal next to her, frowning slightly. "That was not the exact reaction I was expecting."

"You expected something explosive, yes?" Forsythe murmured, glancing over at the winged being "Jarvan is not foreign to loss, actually, he is accustomed to it far more than most. Loss and he go way back. They're truly what you would call old friends."

Kayle looked from the retreating form of the Dragoness back to the tent where the prince was now silently dressing, only the soft clink of armored plates now and then. Kayle turned to the corporal. "Will he be okay?"

"Probably." Forsythe shrugged, frowning, the tension tightening in his shoulders as he shifted from foot to foot. "At least, I hope so…"

Kayle grimaced but nodded.


End file.
